rac 


KttOM  AMONG  THE  BOOKS 

OF   r.  w.  KOI  NIT, 


THE  SPELL  OF  THE  ITALIAN  LAKES 


THE  SPELL  SERIES 


Each  volume  with  one  or  more  colored  plate* 
and  many  illustrations  from  original  drawing* 
or  special  photographs.  Octavo,  decorative 
cover,  gilt  top,  boxed.  Per  volume,  $2£0 

BT  ISABEL  ANDERSON 

THE  SPELL  OF  BELGIUM 

THE  SPELL  OF  JAPAN 

THE   SPELL   OF   THE    HAWAIIAN 
ISLANDS  AND  THE  PHILIPPINES 

BT  CAROLINE  ATWATEB  MASON 
THE  SPELL  OF  ITALY 
THE  SPELL  OF  SOUTHERN  SHORES 
THE  SPELL  OF  FRANCE 

BT  ARCHIE  BELL 
THE  SPELL  OF  CHINA 
THE  SPELL  OF  EGYPT 
THE  SPELL  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND 

BT  KEITH  CLARK 
THE  SPELL  OF  SPAIN 
THE  SPELL  OF  SCOTLAND 

BT   W.    D.    McCRACKAN 

THE  SPELL  OF  TYROL 

THE  SPELL  OF  THE  ITALIAN  LAKES 

BT  EDWARD  NEVILLE  VOSE 
THE  SPELL  OF  FLANDERS 

BT  BURTON  E.  STEVENSON 
THE  SPELL  OF  HOLLAND 

BT  JUUA  DEW.  ADDISON 
THE  SPELL  OF  ENGLAND 

BT  NATHAN  HASKELL  DOLE 

THE  SPELL  OF  SWITZERLAND 


THE  PAGE  COMPANY 
53  Beacon  Street  Boston,  Mass. 


GANDRIA,  ON  LAKE  LUGANO 


William  D.  McCrackan 

Author  of  "  Romance  and  Teutonic  Switzerland," 
"  The  Fair  Land  Tyrol,"  etc. 


THE  SPELL 

OF  THE 

ITALIAN  LAKES 


Being  the  record  of  pilgrimages  to  familiar  and 
unfamiliar  places  of  the  "  lakes  of  azure, 
lakes  of  leisure,"  together  with  a  description 
of  their  quaint  towns  and  villa  gardens,  and 
the  treasures  of  their  art  and  history. 


BOSTON 

THE  PAGE  COMPANY 

1                             PUBLISHERS 

I'  V 


Copyright,  1907 

BY  L.  C.  PAGE  AND  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 


Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 


All  rights  reserved 


Second  Impression,  March,  1908 

Third  Impression,  February,  1910 

New  Edition,  April,  1913 

New  Edition,  Second  Impression,  October,  1913 

New  Edition,  Third  Impression,  November,  1918 


THE   COLONIAL   PRESS 
C.    H.    SIMONDS   CO.,   BOSTON,   U.    S.   A. 


PUBLISHERS'   NOTE 

The  cordial  reception  given  Mr.  William  D. 
McCrackan's  standard  work  THE  ITALIAN  LAKES, 
which  has  gone  through  numerous  editions,  has  led 
the  publishers  to  believe  that  a  new  and  enlarged 
edition,  with  illustrations  in  colour, will  be  welcome. 

The  literary  and  artistic  worth  of  the  book 
makes  it  appropriate  that  its  reissue  should  be  in- 
cluded in  the  well  known  SPELL  SERIES  of  travel 
books,  which  bring  before  the  reader  the  charm 
and  spell  of  the  countries  which  they  describe. 

For  this  reason  the  title  has  been  changed  to 
THE  SPELL  OF  THE  ITALIAN  LAKES. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    LAKES  OF  AZURE i 

II.  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  LAKES    ...  9 

III.  PALLANZA    .......  17 

IV.  THE  BORROMEAN  ISLANDS:  ISOLA  BELLA, 

ISOLA    DEI    PESCATORI,  ISOLA  MADRE, 
ISOLA  SAN  GIOVANNI     ,        .        .        .28 
V.    LOWER  LAGO  MAGGIORE:  ARONA,  CARLO 
BORROMEO,  FROM  ARONA    TO    STRESA, 
ANTONIO  ROSMINI  -  SERBATI,  FROM   BA- 

VENO  TO  LAVENO 40 

VI.     UPPER   LAGO  MAGGIORE  :  THE   LAKE  OF 

LOCARNO,  BERNARDINO  LUINI        .        .      56 
VII.    THE    THREE      LIBERATORS:    GARIBALDI, 

MAZZINI,  AND  CAVOUR.  .        .        .      70 

VIII.     MONTE  MOTTERONE    .....      80 

IX.     RIVIERA  AND  LAGO  D'ORTA       ...      89 
X.     OVER  THE  COLMA  TO  VARALLO  :  CHESTNUT 
FORESTS,   VARALLO,    GAUDENZIO    FER- 
RARI,   SACRO     MONTE,    FOBELLO    AND 
BEYOND    .        .        *        .        .        .        .     104 

XL     LAKE  LUGANO     .        .        .        .        .        .123 

XII.     MONTE  GENEROSO 130 

XIII.  VARESE,  LAKE  AND  CITY  ....     141 

XIV.  THE  CITY  OF  COMO 149 

XV.     SOME    COMO     CELEBRITIES:    PLINY    THE 

ELDER,  PLINY  THE  YOUNGER,  ALESSAN- 
DRO  VOLTA     .        .        ....        -157 

V 


Contents 

CHAPTER  PACK 

XVI.    SILKWORMS  AND  SILK -LOOMS    .        .        .174 
XVII.     THE  COSTUME  OF  THE  BRIANZA        .        .180 
XVIII.     UP  THE  LAKE  OF  COMO    .        .        .        .184 
XIX.    THE  BAY  OF  BELLAGIO:  BELLAGIO,  TRE- 
MEZZO,  VILLA   CARLOTTA,  CADENABBIA 
AND  MENAGGIO,  VARENNA      ...     198 
XX.     FROM  CHIAVENNA  TO  LECCO     .        .        .    222 

XXI.    THE  DILIGENCE 231 

XXII.    Two  SUBALPINE  SCHOLARS:  ALESSANDRO 

MANZONI  AND  ANTONIO  STOPPANI         .    239 

XXIII.  BERGAMO 246 

XXIV.  DONIZETTI  AND  THE  SEVEN  NOTES  .        -251 
XXV.    LAGO  D'ISEO  AND  LADY  MARY  WORTLEY 

MONTAGU         ...        .        .        .        .    259 

XXVI.    BRESCIA  :  ARNOLD  OF   BRESCIA  ;  BAYARD 

SANS  PEUR  ET  SANS  REPROCHE  .  .  273 
XXVII.  LAKE  GARDA  —  THE  WESTERN  SHORE 
FROM  DESENZANO  TO  RIVA:  CATULLUS 
AND  THE  PENINSULA  OF  SERMIONE,  SALO, 
THE  RIVIERA  (GARDONE  -  GARGNANO), 
THE  CLIFFS  OF  TREMOSINE  .  .  .281 

XXVIII.    RIVA 303 

XXIX.     GOETHE  ON  LAKE  GARDA.        .        .        .311 
XXX.    THE   EASTERN   SHORE  OF    LAKE   GARDA 

AND  THE  TOWER  OF  SAN  MARTINO  (SOL- 
FERINO)      .  .  .  i  .  .  .319 

XXXI.    ENVIRONS  AND  EXCURSIONS       .        .        .    326 

XXXII.     GIOVANNI  SEGANTINI  (1858-99)         .        .     333 

INDEX 355 


VI 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

GANDRIA,  ON  LAKE  LUGANO  (in  full  colour)  Frontispiece 

A  WAYSIDE  INN  (in  full  colour)        ....  7 

PALLANZA ;  18 

A  MILITARY  REVIEW  AT  PALLANZA  .       .       .       .  22 

A  GARDEN  OF  PALLANZA 26 

ISOLA  BELLA 31 

THE  GARDEN  OF  ISOLA  BELLA 33 

IN  THE  GARDENS  OF  ISOLA  BELLA   ....  34 

BAVENO  AND  ISOLA  DEI  PESCATORI  (in  full  colour)  36 

THE  UBIQUITOUS  TWIN  CARABINIERI  OF  ITALY       .  44 

DANCING  ON  THE  QUAY  AT  STRESA  ....  47 

SURF  CAUSED  BY  THE  TRAMONTANA  WIND       .       .  48 

THE  REGATTA  AT  STRESA 50 

THE  HARBOUR  OF  STRESA 52 

THE  QUARRIES  OF  BAVENO 54 

OLD  HOUSES  IN  LOCARNO 59 

BIGNASCO,  VAL  MAGGIA  .  .  .  .  .  60 
MADONNA  DEL  SASSO.  —  SAN  QUERICO  ...  62 
THE  MARKET  -  PLACE  OF  LOCARNO.  —  WASHER- 
WOMEN IN  THE  HARBOUR  OF  LOCARNO  .  .  64 
AFTER  THE  MARKET  OF  LOCARNO  ....  66 
A  STONE  BARGE  ON  LAGO  MAGGIORE  ...  68 
PICTURESQUE  BARN  AT  CAMPING  81 
A  COUNTRY  FESTIVAL  NEAR  LAGO  MAGGIORE  .  82 
A  HALT  IN  A  VILLAGE  SQUARE  ....  84 

vii 


List  of  Illustrations 


PAGE 

ISLAND  OF  SAN  GIULIO,  LAGO  D'ORTA  .  .  .  101 

THE  BLESSING  OF  THE  SHEEP  AT  ALAGNA  .  .  117 

MORCOTE,  ON  LAKE  LUGANO  (in  full  colour)  .  125 
A  GONDOLA  -  SHELL  AT  THE  COMO  REGATTA  .  .156 

THE  COSTUME  OF  THE  BRIANZA  ....  180 
A  PEASANT  WOMAN  OF  LAKE  COMO  .  .  .186 

NESSO,  ON  LAKE  COMO 192 

BELLAGIO,  ON  LAKE  COMO 198 

A  CHIANTI  SELLER  (in  full  colour)  ....  200 

THE  DUCAL  BARGE  OF  SAXE  -  MELNLNGEN  .  .  212 
A  LOMBARD  FETE  (in  full  colour)  .  .  .  .250 

DONIZETTI'S  SEVEN  NOTES 256 

ON  LAKE  GARDA 281 

AT  THE  FOUNTAIN  IN  THE  VILLAGE  or  SAN  To- 

MASO,  NEAR  NAGO 288 

LEMON  PLANTATIONS  ON  LAKE  GARDA  .  .  .  294 

ISOLA  DI  GARDA  (ISOLA  LECCHI).  —  THE  RIVIERA  298 
THE  CLIFFS  OF  TREMOSINE.  —  LIMONE,  AND  THE 

ITALIAN  CUSTOMS  VESSELS 302 

RTVA,  GENERAL  VIEW.  —  RJVA,  THE  HARBOUR  .  304 

RTVA,  HOTEL  TERRACE 306 

AT  RTVA,  JUST  BEFORE  THE  ORA  BEGINS  TO  BLOW  308 

FROM  TORBOLE  TO  MALCESINE.  —  MALCESINE  .  316 

ARCO  AND  ITS  CASTLE  .  .  .  .  .  .  326 


viii 


THE  SPELL  OF 

THE  ITALIAN  LAKES 


CHAPTER   I 
LAKES  OF  AZURE 

THE  Italian  lakes  express  perennial  youth 
and  freshness,  joyousness  and  peace.  They 
partake  of  the  Alps  and  of  the  South  Sea 
Islands.  They  recall  Switzerland  and  Sa- 
moa. Their  mornings  sparkle  with  the  glint 
of  glaciers,  their  noons  recall  those  of  Venice 
or  Naples,  and  their  evenings  lie  hushed 
under  the  shadows  of  great  mountains.  In 
their  atmosphere  there  is  both  the  zest  of 
the  winter's  snow  and  the  warmth  of  the 
fruitful  summer,  and  these  two  combined 
produce  a  touch  of  constant  spring. 

The  Italian  lakes  are  bordered  by  the  pick 
of  Italian  gardens.  Their  blue  basins  catch 
the  drip  from  the  melting  snows  and  are  set 

i 


The  Italian  Lakes 

in  a  land  of  pink  palaces,  of  orange  and 
lemon  groves,  of  camellias,  azaleas,  and  rho- 
dodendron bushes.  It  is  the  land  of  the 
nightingale  in  the  thicket,  the  cuckoo  in  the 
forest,  the  lark  on  the  uplands,  and  the  gor- 
geous lizard  in  the  crevices  of  the  walls. 
Arboured  walks,  pergolas  of  vines,  and  rare 
shrubberies  lead  from  parterres  to  porticos, 
from  grottos  to  grand  terraces.  The  moun- 
tainsides of  this  lake  region  rejoice  in  the 
lilac  crocus,  early  and  late,  in  the  primrose, 
the  starry  anemone,  and  the  scented  violet 
of  the  spring,  in  the  lily-of-the-valley,  seek- 
ing the  shade,  and  in  the  gay  narcissus  on  the 
grass  lands.  The  forest-trees  are  of  chestnut 
and  walnut,  larch  and  cembra  and  decora- 
tive laburnum;  and  in  the  heights  the  alpine 
flowers,  the  gentian,  the  soldanella,  the  ra- 
nunculus, the  primula,  and  a  galaxy  of  others 
cling  and  cluster  about  the  rocks. 

With  never  waning  winsomeness  the  Ital- 
ian lakes  have  long  been  making  friends 
among  the  people  of  all  nations.  Ever  since 
it  became  the  fashion  for  Englishmen  to 
make  the  Continental  tour,  for  Germans  to 
indulge  in  an  It&litnfahrt,  or  for  Americans 
to  include  these  lakes  in  a  trip  to  Europe, 
they  have  been  established  in  popular  esti- 


Lakes  of  Azure 

mation  as  representing  the  very  acme  of 
scenic  beauty  in  form  and  hue.  When  Bul- 
wer-Lytton  wished  to  mention  an  environ- 
ment in  his  "  Lady  of  Lyons "  which  an 
audience  could  recognize  as  a  veritable  prod- 
igy of  natural  loveliness,  he  described  a  spot 
near  Lake  Como: 

"  A  deep  vale, 

Shut  out  by  Alpine  hills  from  the  rude  world, 
Near  a  dear  lake,  margined  by  fruits  of  gold 
And  whispering  myrtles,  glassing  softest  skies 
As  cloudless,  save  with  rare  and  roseate  shadows, 
As  I  would  have  thy  fate.*' 

To-day,  when  some  scenic  painter  desires 
to  produce  a  drop  curtain  which  shall  sum 
up  on  a  few  square  yards  of  canvas  all  that 
is  most  striking  and  picturesque  in  scenery 
and  outdoor  art,  he  is  very  apt  to  paint  a  bit 
of  an  Italian  lake,  throw  in  some  mountains 
for  a  background,  and  place  an  awninged 
boat  in  a  corner  of  the  foreground.  What 
with  satin  lakes,  velvet  slopes,  red  umbrellas 
on  white  roads,  and  tinted  villas  on  the  shore 
line,  the  region  of  the  Italian  lakes  is  aglow 
with  colour  surprises  for  travellers  from  all 
quarters  of  the  globe,  especially  for  those 
from  the  soberer  north.  The  picture  these 
lakes  present  would  seem  to  have  no  un- 

3 


The  Italian  Lakes 

finished  or  incomplete  corners,  no  crudities 
needing  to  be  patched  up.  As  they  lie,  amid 
their  surroundings  of  peak  and  plain,  they 
have  even  been  improved  upon  by  man's 
handiwork.  What  man  could  do  to  empha- 
size natural  beauty  has  already  been  largely 
done  through  the  centuries. 

Though  the  Italian  lakes  bear  a  certain 
family  likeness,  they  are  strictly  individual; 
each  has  its  special  charms,  its  distinctive 
beauties,  and  its  own  historic  or  artistic  asso- 
ciations. In  private  we  may  have  our  fa- 
vourites, but  it  would  be  invidious  to  award 
the  prize  of  preference  publicly. 

These  lakes  recall  Mazzini  plotting  for 
Italian  independence,  Garibaldi  fighting  for 
it,  and  Cavour  organizing  the  result;  Bra- 
bante  building  churches  and  Bernardino 
Luini  and  Gaudenzio  Ferrari  decorating 
them;  Carlo  Borromeo  travelling  about  his 
diocese;  the  missionary  Julius  preaching 
on  the  shores  of  Lake  Orta;  the  two  Plinies 
residing  on  their  estates  at  Como;  Volta 
experimenting  with  electricity;  Thorwald- 
sen  and  Canova  supplying  statues  for  lake- 
side villas;  Manzoni  romancing  about  the 
people  of  Lecco  and  Stoppani  writing  of 
its  rocks;  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu, 

4 


Lakes  of  Azure 

famed  for  her  letters  from  Constantinople, 
taking  her  ease  at  Lake  Iseo;  Virgil,  Catul- 
lus, Claudian,  Dante,  Goethe,  poetizing 
about  Lake  Garda;  and  Ruskin  and  Sy- 
monds  popularizing  the  art  treasures  of 
many  of  the  towns  with  discriminating  lit- 
erary touches. 

Three  great  railroads  have  pierced  the 
wall  of  the  Alps  and  brought  the  Italian 
lakes  into  direct  communication  with  north- 
ern lands:  the  Brenner  'route,  the  St.  Goth- 
ard,  and  now  the  Simplon,  to  give  them  in 
the  order  of  their  construction.  The  Mont 
Cenis,  by  reason  of  its  position  on  the  ex- 
treme west,  can  hardly  be  called  a  direct 
feeder  to  the  Italian  lakes.  Each  of  these 
railroads  is  a  marvel  of  industrious  ingenu- 
ity, and,  in  an  ascending  scale,  their  con- 
structors have  each  overcome  greater  engi- 
neering difficulties  and  discovered  improved 
methods  for  boring.  The  simple  facts  about 
the  Simplon,  for  instance,  the  last  of  the 
great  tunnels,  are  sufficiently  astounding.  It 
is  the  longest  railroad  tunnel  in  the  world, 
being  twelve  and  a  quarter  miles  long;  its 
cost  has  been  nearly  fifteen  millions  of  dol- 
lars ;  it  has  taken  six  and  a  half  years  to  con- 
struct; and  the  mountain  mass  above  it  rises 

5 


The  Italian  Lakes 

to  a  maximum  height  of  some  seven  thousand 
feet.  It  was  inaugurated  on  May  19,  1906, 
by  King  Victor  Emmanuel  and  the  President 
of  the  Swiss  Republic  conjointly  at  Brieg, 
the  Swiss  terminus  of  the  tunnel. 

By  contrast  with  the  present  method  of 
passing  through  the  Simplon,  the  following 
letter  from  Ruskin  to  his  mother,  describing 
his  trip  over  it,  and  dated  at  Domo  d'Ossola, 
May  5,  1869,  will  prove  of  interest:  "  I  left 
Brieg  at  six  exactly  —  light  clouds  breaking 
away  into  perfect  calm  of  blue.  Heavy 
snow  on  the  Col  —  about  a  league,  with 
wreaths  in  many  places  higher  than  the  car- 
riage. Then,  white  crocus  all  over  the  fields, 
with  soldanella  and  primula  farinosa.  I 
walked  about  three  miles  up,  and  seven 
down,  with  great  contentment,  the  water- 
falls being  all  in  rainbows,  and  one  beyond 
anything  I  ever  yet  saw,  for  it  fell  in  a  pillar 
of  spray  against  shadow  behind,  and  became 
rainbow  altogether.  I  was  just  near  enough 
to  get  the  belt  broad,  and  the  down  part  of 
the  arch;  and  the  whole  fall  became  orange 
and  violet  against  deep  shade.  To-morrow 
I  hope  to  get  news  of  you  all,  at  Baveno." 

When  the  visitor,  homeward  bound,  has 
taken  his  last  glance  for  the  season  from 

6 


WAYSIDE  INN 


Lakes  of  Azure 

such  points  of  vantage  as  the  high-placed 
railroad  stations  of  Como  or  Lugano,  has 
ejaculated  his  final  exclamations  of  delight, 
as  he  travels  along  the  shores  of  Lakes  Mag- 
giore  and  Orta,  or  views  for  the  last  time 
on  any  particular  trip  the  ever  memorable 
expanse  of  Lake  Garda  from  the  defile  of 
Nago,  he  is  sure  to  confess  to  a  strong  desire 
to  return  another  day  and  revisit  these  lakes 
of  azure,  lakes  of  leisure. 

The  grand  hotels,  equally  with  the  un- 
pretentious pensions  and  wayside  inns,  have 
opened  their  hospitable  doors.  There  have 
been  trips  by  steamboat,  possibly  moonlight 
rows  and  climbs  to  points  of  view,  certainly 
strolls  through  gardens  full  of  grace  and 
charm,  and  visits  to  stately  villas  rich  in 
treasures  of  art.  The  country  folk  by  their 
labour  have  beautified  hillside  and  plain, 
terracing  and  planting  the  slopes  with  vine- 
yards and  many-coloured  crops.  The  gay 
native  sense  of  colour  has  brightened  the 
landscape,  and  even  the  clatter  of  the  wooden 
sandals  on  the  cobbled  ways  has  been  pleas- 
ant to  the  ear. 

And  so  there  is  satisfaction  for  the  visitor 
in  knowing  that  the  little  return  he  has  made 
in  currency  will  contribute  in  some  measure 

7 


The  Italian  Lakes 

toward  the  prosperity  of  the  districts  he  has 
traversed;  will  help  increase  the  stock  of 
this  world's  goods  where  it  may  be  small, 
replenish  the  bare  stone  barns,  rejuvenate  the 
worn-out  fields,  cause  the  orchards  to  bloom 
more  daintily  and  bear  fuller  fruitage  —  in 
a  word  tend  to  make  living  less  arduous  on 
the  tiny  patches  of  land,  alongshore  or  up 
in  the  heights,  whence  the  view  is  so  noble. 


8 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  MAKING  OF  THE  LAKES 

THE  great  subalpine  lakes  surround  the 
Alps  like  a  necklace  of  jewels.  They  lit- 
erally depend  upon  and  from  the  mountains, 
and  the  threads  by  which  they  are  attached 
are  silver  torrents  and  glittering  streams 
coursing  down  from  on  high.  The  jewels  in 
this  necklace  are  made  iridescent  by  the  play 
and  interplay  of  sun  and  season.  They  re- 
spond to  the  action  of  distant  snow  masses 
and  glaciers  on  the  march. 

Of  the  Italian  lakes  in  particular  it  may 
be  said  that  they  are  great  reflectors  of  the 
Alps,  lying  meekly  at  the  feet  of  the  giants 
and  mirroring  outline  and  colour  upon  their 
polished  faces. 

From  the  valleys  on  the  Italian  side  the 
Alps  are  seen  to  rise  to  their  full  stature, 
for  the  southern  slope  is  much  steeper  than 
the  northern  one.  Hence  the  views  from  the 
Italian  lakes  region  permit  a  special  breadth 

9 


The  Italian  Lakes 

and  height  and  enable  one  to  study  moun- 
tain formations  with  a  certain  degree  of 
comprehension.  In  order  to  obtain  some 
idea  of  prevalent  theories  in  regard  to  the 
origin  of  the  Alps,  and  hence  of  the  great 
water  pockets  or  lake  reservoirs  at  their  feet, 
take  your  stand  upon  one  of  those  lesser,  but 
commanding,  heights  in  the  Italian  lakes 
region,  whence  Alps  and  plain  can  be  swept 
by  the  eye,  Monte  Motterone,  Sasso  del 
Ferro,  Monte  Generoso,  or  any  other  of  the 
summits  favourably  placed  for  a  bird's-eye 
view.  Then  start  your  theory  by  imagining 
yourself  back  in  the  Permian,  Liassic,  Juras- 
sic, or  Cretaceous  period,  when  the  deep  sea 
is  believed  to  have  lain  upon  the  surface  of 
the  earth  where  the  Alps  now  rise,  and  the 
very  height  to  which  you  have  climbed  was 
not. 

Let  us  now  suppose  these  ages  to  have 
disappeared  into  the  dim  perspective  of  the 
past,  and  the  quiet  which  brooded  upon  the 
face  of  the  waters  to  have  been  broken  by 
a  total  transformation.  The  earth,  in  cool- 
ing, has  contracted,  the  crust  has  been  crum- 
pled into  folds  and  the  raw  material  of  the 
Alps,  the  strata  out  of  which  the  peaks  are 
to  be  carved,  stand  up  above  the  sea,  up- 

10 


The  Making  of  the  Lakes 

heaved,  not  by  pressure  from  below,  but 
from  the  sides.  As  soon  as  these  vast  arch- 
ing folds  have  risen  from  the  bottom  of  the 
sea  into  the  clouds,  the  process  of  disinte- 
gration and  denudation  begins  under  the 
influence  of  heat  and  cold,  wind  and  water, 
snow  and  rain.  Rivers  form,  and  wear  and 
tear  great  chasms,  gorges,  and  valleys  down 
the  flanks  of  the  folds  on  their  way  to  the 
sea.  Presently  the  once  solid  mass  is  no 
longer  intact,  but  is  cut  into  ridges  and 
ranges,  sections  and  groups.  The  Alps  stand 
forth  as  lofty  peaks;  the  rivers  deposit  their 
debris  and  detritus,  the  refuse  of  the  heights, 
in  all  directions,  and  fill  up  Central  Europe 
with  sand  and  gravel.  The  Ice  Age  follows, 
and  when  that  period  of  cold  is  finally 
broken,  the  Alps  appear  somewhat  as  we 
see  them  to-day,  and  perhaps  some  of  the 
lakes,  too. 

But  the  peaks  point  skyward  and  must 
take  the  consequences.  The  disintegrating 
elemental  forces  that  make  for  a  dead  level 
will  not  leave  them  alone.  The  destructive 
agencies  cut  and  slash,  peck  and  pinch  the 
giants,  nipping  off  a  bit  here,  tearing  down 
a  corner  there.  No  sooner  has  a  creditable 
outline,  a  rounded  form,  or  a  noble  horn 

ii 


The  Italian  Lakes 

been  established,  than  these  destructive  agen- 
cies, like  tireless  imps,  are  found  at  work 
there  with  their  little  hammers,  pincers, 
augers,  gimlets,  and  saws,  chipping  and  dis- 
figuring the  fair  mountain  faces.  They  try 
to  alter  even  the  mountain  meadows,  famil- 
iar to  many  generations  of  men  in  the  valleys 
below,  and  seek  to  tamper  with  the  kindly 
mountain  slopes  that  have  fed  the  grazing 
cattle  and  supported  the  forests  from  which 
to  build  many  thousand  cottages  and  kindle 
countless  fires  upon  family  hearthstones. 
Still  there  are  compensations  and  readjust- 
ments. The  denudation  of  the  Alps  fer- 
tilizes the  plain,  filling  it  with  alluvial 
deposits.  In  the  case  of  the  plain  of  Lom- 
bardy  borings  indicate  that  the  alluvium  is 
of  tremendous,  but  as  yet  unknown,  depth. 

But  what  of  the  alpine  and  subalpine 
lakes?  What  say  modern  theories  as  to  their 
origin?  Much  study  has  been  devoted  to 
this  question  of  lake  formation  by  conscien- 
tious natural  scientists,  among  others  by 
Englishmen  such  as  Tyndall,  Ramsay,  Ball, 
and  Lubbock,  by  the  Italians  Gastaldi  and 
De  Mortillet,  and  by  the  Swiss  Desor, 
Studer,  and  Favre.  According  to  these  in- 
vestigators, there  would  seem  to  be  room  for 

12 


The  Making  of  the  Lakes 

considerable  difference  of  opinion  in  regard 
to  the  origin  of  the  great  lakes  which  sur- 
round the  Alps  and  catch  their  snow  and 
rain  fall,  north  and  south.  The  lakes  doubt- 
less arose  after  the  worst  of  the  Ice  Age 
was  past  and  coincidentally  with  the  retreat 
of  the  glaciers  from  the  plains,  back  nearer 
to  their  mountain  fastnesses  and  snow  sources. 

Some  of  the  smaller  alpine  lakes  have 
been  produced  by  moraines,  or  rockfalls, 
blocking  the  progress  of  torrents  or  rivers 
down  to  the  valleys  and  causing  the  water 
to  back  up  and  rise,  until  it  once  more  made 
an  outlet  for  itself.  Lakes  Orta  and  Iseo 
arose  in  this  manner. 

As  for  the  larger  alpine  lakes,  it  was  at 
one  time  quite  generally  held  in  geological 
circles  that  their  basins  had  been  scooped 
out  wholly  by  the  action  of  glaciers,  rein- 
forced by  rivers.  But  the  great  depth  of 
most  of  the  Italian  subalpine  lakes  seems 
to  make  this  theory  unsatisfactory.  The  bot- 
toms of  some  of  these  lakes  descend  below 
the  level  of  the  sea,  those  of  Maggiore  and 
Como  more  than  twelve  hundred  feet  below 
sea-level.  It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine 
such  profound  excavations  made  by  ice  or 
water,  so  far  below  the  normal  water  level. 

13 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Another  explanation  has  therefore  been  gain- 
ing ground  more  recently,  which  is  based  on 
the  supposition  that  there  has  been  a  sub- 
sidence of  the  Central  Alps  since  the  Ice 
Age.  This  subsidence  would  tend  to  raise 
the  surrounding  country,  at  least  relatively, 
and  the  rivers  which  flowed  downward  from 
the  Alps  would  find  the  lower  ends  of  their 
valleys  seemingly  tilted  up,  as  it  were,  and 
their  waters  would  be  caught  in  veritable 
pockets  or  reservoirs.  Thus  the  lakes,  as  we 
see  them  to-day,  would  be  the  result,  first  of 
ice  and  water  carving  out  valleys,  and  then 
of  subsidence  altering  the  level  of  the  valley 
floors.  There  is  still,  however,  the  possi- 
bility that  the  larger  Italian  subalpine  lakes 
are  the  remnants  of  a  sea  which  once  un- 
doubtedly covered  the  whole  plain  of  Lom- 
bardy. 

The  natural  tendency  has  been  for  the 
same  process  which  denudes  the  Alps  also  to 
diminish  the  area  of  the  Italian  lakes.  Ma- 
terial has  been  deposited  upon  the  lake  bot- 
toms by  the  rivers  that  drain  them.  Espe- 
cially is  this  filling-in  process  noticeable  at 
the  upper  ends  of  the  lakes.  Thus  Lago 
Maggiore  doubtless  once  extended  as  far 


The  Making  of  the  Lakes 

north    as    Bellinzona    and    Lake    Como    to 
Chiavenna. 

The  colour  of  alpine  and  subalpine  lakes 
has  long  been  a  source  of  special  joy  and 
wonder  to  tourists  and  travellers,  artists  and 
poets.  There  is  considerable  variety  and 
wide  alternation  between  the  extremes  of 
ultramarine  blue  and  deep  green.  Every 
intermediate  shade  is  to  be  found  somewhere, 
in  some  alpine  or  subalpine  lake,  or  in  some 
portion  of  such  a  lake.  Among  the  Italian 
lakes  a  rich  blue,  similar  to  that  of  the  Medi- 
terranean, predominates,  but  there  is  also  a 
great  diversity  in  colour  which  serves  to 
emphasize  the  special  characteristics  of  each 
lake.  Above  all,  the  changing  conditions  of 
atmosphere,  seasons,  wind,  and  rain,  and 
especially  of  sun,  cause  a  constant  play  and 
interplay  which  largely  modify  the  original, 
or  basic  colour  and  act  as  secondary  influ- 
ences. It  has  been  popularly  supposed  that 
the  blueness  of  water  in  general  is  due  to  the 
reflection  of  the  blue  sky,  but  actual  experi- 
ments indicate  that  pure  water  is  naturally 
blue,  and  so  it  would  follow  that  the  clearest 
lakes  are  also  the  bluest.  The  green  of  cer- 
tain lakes  may  be  due  to  minute  quantities 
of  vegetable  matter  in  solution,  to  the  shal- 


The  Italian  Lakes 

lowness  of  water  lying  over  yellowish  sand 
or  rock,  to  the  action  of  storms  in  stirring 
up  sediment,  or  even  to  microscopic  algae. 

Whatever  the  supposed  causes  of  their 
changing  colours,  the  Italian  lakes  them- 
selves remain  ever  attractive  in  a  sort  of  un- 
expectedly spontaneous  way.  When  we 
think  their  beauties  have  been  sufficiently 
differentiated,  arranged,  sorted,  and  classi- 
fied, and  their  relative  values  compared, 
then  a  day  of  unusual  conditions  makes  itself 
felt  and  all  calculations  fail.  Criticism  can- 
not thrive  in  their  atmosphere  nor  unchari- 
tableness  face  their  kindly  loveliness.  They 
are  all  friends  of  men  and  vary  only  in  their 
special  virtues,  —  they  have  no  faults. 


16 


CHAPTER   III 

/ 

PALLANZA 

SEEN  from  Pallanza,  Lake  Maggiore  lies 
shimmering  and  smiling  southward,  down 
to  the  lowlands  near  Arona,  and  stretches 
east  and  west  in  its  most  complacent  mood 
and  widest  expanse  to  Laveno  and  Feriolo. 
In  every  direction  the  charm  of  perfect  pro- 
portion makes  itself  felt,  and  though  the 
lake  is  broad  and  tends  to  imitate  the  gran- 
deur of  the  sea,  it  is  kept  within  the  confines 
of  a  lake  by  noble  mountains  rising  clear 
and  sheer  to  dominate  its  waters.  Sasso  del 
Ferro  on  the  one  hand,  Monte  Motterone  on 
the  other,  keep  watch  and  ward  over  the 
great  open  space  into  which  the  Punta  della 
Castagnola,  or  peninsula  of  Pallanza,  creeps 
forward  on  all  fours;  while  noble  ranges 
with  their  own  peculiar  peaks  preside  over 
the  wayward  windings  of  the  lake  in  its 
upper  'reaches,  where  it  is  Swiss.  By  con- 
trast with  the  rich  beauties  of  the  fore- 

17 


The  Italian  Lakes 

ground  there  are  the  great  spurs  of  the  Alps, 
and  above  all  there  is  the  distant  majesty 
of  Monte  Rosa,  set  apart  as  a  beacon  of  light 
to  glow  at  dawn  and  twilight,  and  to  shine 
by  day  like  a  luminous  fluff  of  light. 

Pallanza's  noble  outlook  has  won  its  way 
into  the  hearts  and  fulfilled  many  aspirations 
of  northern  races  sighing  for  the  south. 
Hither  have  come  the  Germans,  attracted 
by  the  periodical  longing  for  a  trip  to  Italy, 
that  Italienfahrt,  which  every  German  seems 
to  carry  concealed  in  his  innermost  nature. 
Hither,  too,  the  English  have  come  for 
years,  during  the  spring  and  autumn,  to 
rejoice  in  the  colour  and  climax  of  scenic 
beauty  which  this  bay  presents.  Americans 
are  also  to  be  met  in  increasing  numbers 
all  the  year  round,  and  in  summer  the  good 
people  of  Milan  and  the  other  great  cities 
of  Northern  Italy  come  into  their  very  own 
and  take  possession.  Then  it  is  that  they 
have  their  excursions,  their  music  and  sing- 
ing, their  rowing  parties  and  regattas  on  the 
lake,  lying  calm  and  dormant  under  the  mid- 
summer sun  or  touched  into  liquid  gold  by 
the  full-orbed,  radiant,  and  expansive  Ital- 
ian moon. 

There  is  a  pleasant  quay  at  Pallanza 
18 


Pallanza 

planted  with  magnolia-trees  and  a  tiny  pub- 
lic park  jutting  out  into  the  lake,  whence  the 
view  reaches  over  to  the  Borromean  Islands, 
to  Stresa,  Baveno,  and  their  mountain  back- 
grounds. Lago  Maggiore  is  here  so  wide 
that  one  might  almost  be  somewhere  in  mid- 
ocean,  on  an  island  group  of  the  southern 
seas,  topped  by  volcanic  peaks.  Rowboats 
in  plenty  wait  at  the  foot  of  the  hotel  gar- 
dens and  beside  the  walled  terraces,  to  take 
parties  up  and  down  and  over  across  the 
lake.  The  boats  are  gay  with  awnings,  flags, 
and  coloured  cushions,  and  the  boatmen  are 
warranted  to  sing  "  Santa  Lucia,"  etc.,  as 
often  as  requested,  and  even  oftener,  both 
coming  and  going.  They  enjoy  some  ban- 
tering among  themselves  and  a  little  fun  is 
poked  at  the  world  in  general,  as  the  flotilla 
of  boats  moves  off  amid  exclamations  of 
delight.  There  is  some  racing  to  get  off 
first,  the  oars  splash,  there  are  shouts  and 
challenges,  and  presently  all  the  little  flags 
flap  joyously  in  unison  from  the  sterns,  as 
the  boats  line  off  for  the  trip  to  the  islands 
across  the  lake.  After  they  have  gone,  the 
brave  brown  boatmen  (batte Uteri)  who  have 
been  left  behind  and  have  not  been  hired 
this  time,  settle  down  once  more  on  the  stone 

19 


The  Italian  Lakes 

parapets  of  the  lakeside  to  make  the  best 
of  the  situation,  to  sleep  and  take  their  well- 
earned  rest  until  the  next  flock  of  tourists 
shall  call  for  their  services,  —  and  for  a 
time  we  hear  only  the  pleasant  murmur  of 
the  little  waves  as  they  beat  lazily  against 
the  lake  wall. 

But  should  a  storm  break  over  the  lake, 
darkness  will  blot  out  the  further  shores  be- 
hind a  black  curtain  of  advancing  rain  and 
cloud.  There  will  be  a  general  scurrying 
for  shelter  all  along  the  line.  The  little 
boats  that  remain  are  then  carefully  moored 
and  fastened  for  the  ordeal.  White  spots 
suddenly  appear  on  the  water  in  front  of 
the  black  curtain,  and  a  strange  white  line 
is  traced  clear  across  the  bay,  where  cloud 
and  water  meet.  A  big  black  barge  is  seen 
racing  before  the  storm  with  bellying  square 
sail,  trailing  a  huge  rudder  manned  by  a  pic- 
turesque lake-man.  Havoc  seems  to  lurk  in 
the  air  and  ominous  forebodings  visit  the 
gay  flotillas,  but  behold,  while  we  look,  the 
black  curtain  has  passed,  the  sun  shines,  the 
water  sparkles  blue  and  merry,  and  laughter 
rings  out  from  garden  and  copse  once  more. 
The  camellias  shed  their  drops  of  rain;  the 
birds  chirp  and  chatter  as  before  from  the 

20 


Pallanza 

magnolia-trees  and  the  thickets  of  rhodo- 
dendron, —  and  the  lake  has  dried  its  tears. 

Greatly  as  the  natural  beauty  of  Pallanza 
is  beloved  by  tourists,  still  it  has  a  public 
life  which  is  interesting  for  its  own  sake. 
The  steamboat-landing  forms  a  special  cen- 
tre ot  activity,  and  close  by  rises  the  town 
hall,  the  Palazzo  degli  Uffici,  the  seat  of  the 
municipality  and  sub-prefecture.  It  is  a 
large  building  standing  upon  arches  that 
form  a  convenient  and  characteristic  Italian 
arcade  and  afford  shelter  alike  from  sun 
and  rain.  Here  a  small  perennial  market 
has  its  seat  which  overflows  into  the  open 
square  on  certain  days  of  the  week.  Hither 
come  the  townspeople  with  their  kitchen 
baskets,  and  the  foreign  visitors  to  pry  among 
the  curios  kept  for  sale,  both  ancient  and 
modern.  Here  also  a  few  porters  have  their 
rendezvous  and  lounging-place,  whence  they 
may  issue  forth  at  the  call  of  duty,  and  in 
the  meantime  take  a  comprehensive  view 
of  all  that  is  going  on  by  land  and  water. 

The  sloping  shore  of  Pallanza  is  paved 
for  a  long  distance  with  flagstones,  which 
give  the  place  an  air  of  neatness  and  good 
repair.  Young  girls  go  to  the  lake  for 
water,  carrying  ancient  copper  vessels  of  a 

21 


The  Italian  Lakes 

form  more  or  less  classic.  The  family  wash- 
ing is  done  at  almost  any  convenient  point 
along  the  paved  slope.  The  women  gather 
their  skirts  about  them  and  kneel  down  upon 
peculiar  little  stools,  or  inside  of  boxes,  that 
stand  in  the  water  and  have  boards  in  front 
of  them.  Then  the  soaping  and  pounding 
and  chatting  begins  and  the  air  resounds 
with  news  or  no  news,  as  the  case  may  be. 

The  beautiful  tower  which  overtops  Pal- 
lanza  is  one  of  the  finest  of  the  many  splen- 
did stone  campanili  which  are  to  be  found 
in  the  lake  region.  In  the  square  stands  a 
statue  of  Carlo  Cordona,  a  native  of  Pal- 
lanza  who  played  an  important  part  during 
the  period  of  Italian  reconstruction,  the 
great  risorgimento.  Indeed  for  so  small 
a  place  Pallanza  has  an  unexpectedly  long 
history.  Should  the  traveller  be  present  on 
the  holiday  of  the  Statute,  a  chance  will  be 
afforded  of  seeing  a  military  review  of  the 
local  garrison. 

In  a  learned  work  by  Agostino  Viani,  en- 
titled "  Pallanza  Antica  e  Pallanza  Nuova," 
the  author  gives  good  reasons  for  believing 
that  Pallanza  was  founded  by  Celts  several 
centuries  before  the  Christian  era  and  de- 
rives its  name  from  the  word  "  palanz," 

22 


Pallanza 

meaning  a  place  of  popular  assembly,  and 
referring  to  the  summit  of  the  present  Punta 
della  Castagnola.  When  Drusus  and  Tibe- 
rius conquered  the  races  in  the  Eastern  Alps, 
Pallanza  was  incorporated  into  the  Pro- 
vincia  Claudiana.  On  the  little  island  of 
San  Giovanni,  just  offshore  from  the  Punta 
della  Castagnola,  there  arose  a  Roman  cas- 
tellum,  which  in  A.  D.  886,  along  with  Pal- 
lanza, was  granted  to  the  Bishop  of  Vercelli 
by  the  Emperor  Charlemagne.  After  vary- 
ing fortunes  this  whole  property  was  ceded 
in  1152  by  the  Emperor  Barbarossa  to  the 
nobles  De  Castello,  the  main  branch  of  this 
family  being  called  Barbavara.  These  no- 
bles later  erected  a  castle  on  the  mainland, 
leaving  their  island  fortress  to  decay.  The 
power  of  the  Barbavara  family  was  broken 
in  1270,  and  the  citizens  of  Pallanza  entered 
into  a  measure  of  comparative  self-govern- 
ment. In  1392  we  find  Pallanza  forming 
part  of  the  Duchy  of  Milan,  and  possessing 
statutes  of  its  own,  which,  however,  had  to 
be  approved  by  the  ducal  family  of  the 
Visconti  in  Milan.  The  rule  of  the  Visconti 
was  succeeded  by  that  of  the  Sforza  family, 
but  Pallanza  in  1467  paid  2,200  imperial 
lire  and  retained  its  measure  of  freedom 

23 


The  Italian  Lakes 

from  the  feudal  yoke.  The  Sforza  family 
becoming  extinct,  the  Duchy  of  Milan  was 
inherited  by  Emperor  Charles  V.,  and  Pal- 
lanza  became  Spanish.  There  ensued  an  era 
of  considerable  local  development.  In  1520 
the  foundation  was  laid  for  the  tall  cam- 
panile, which  was  not  finished,  however,  until 
1689,  after  designs  by  Pellegrini.  The 
markets  and  fairs  of  Pallanza  gave  it  increas- 
ing wealth  and  importance.  Unfortunately, 
its  exceptional  political  position  also  excited 
constant  wonderment  and  invited  envy.  In 
1621  the  citizens  of  Pallanza  had  to  pay 
another  twenty-three  thousand  imperial  lire 
in  order  to  retain  their  freedom  from  feudal 
control,  but  they  likewise  received  at  this 
time  a  perpetual  guarantee  of  this  immunity 
which  was  confirmed  to  them  by  Philip  IV., 
King  of  Spain. 

Finally  the  Spanish  dominion  passed  away 
in  its  turn,  and  in  1743,  at  the  treaty  of 
Worms,  Pallanza  was  incorporated  into  the 
kingdom  of  Sardinia  and  Savoy,  Carlo 
Emanuele  III.  reigning,  and  became  the 
capital  of  a  province. 

In  1824  the  first  steamboat  made  its  ap- 
pearance on  the  lake.  It  was  called  the 
Verbano  after  the  Latin  name  of  Lago  Mag* 

24 


Pallanza 

giore.  It  made  a  regular  trip  up  the  lake 
one  day  and  descended  the  next,  resting  on 
Sundays. 

There  have  been  several  agricultural,  in- 
dustrial, and  horticultural  exhibitions  at  Pal- 
lanza, which  have  added  to  the  name  and 
fame  of  this  place  as  both  a  beautiful  and 
also  an  active  centre  of  subalpine  life. 

Pallanza  is  so  well  protected  from  the 
winds  of  winter,  that  its  southern  exposure 
grants  it  special  favours  in  the  way  of  trop- 
ical and  exotic  vegetation.  Whichever  way 
the  visitor  turns,  this  special  bounty  is  made 
manifest,  —  and  in  the  very  sight  of  the  ever- 
lasting snows.  The  water-front  presents  a 
succession  of  garden-girt  villas  and  far- 
famed  nursery-gardens,  of  which  the  place 
is  justly  proud,  one  more  exquisite  than  the 
other,  each  displaying  its  own  particular 
charms  and  treasures.  The  Punta  della 
Castagnola  bears  on  its  back  the  fine  hotels 
which  care  so  completely  for  the  many  vis- 
itors, and  the  road  to  Intra  and  beyond  pre- 
sents an  unbroken  series  of  pictures,  in  which 
one  admires  by  turns  the  water,  the  sky,  the 
flowers,  and  the  painstaking  handiwork  of 
man  in  bringing  the  rocky  water-front  into 
subjection. 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Out  on  the  white  highway  some  one  is 
walking  under  a  large  red  umbrella;  there 
is  the  tinkle  of  horses  bells;  a  tiny  donkey 
picking  its  way  with  dainty  steps  and  bowed 
head  draws  an  enormous  funnel-shaped  cart 
on  two  wheels.  When  we  look  nearer  a 
man  is  seen  inside  sleeping  under  the  awn- 
ing. The  gardens  of  the  hotels,  of  the  villas, 
and  of  the  nurserymen  are  redolent  with  the 
scent  of  delicious  blossoms  and  brilliant  with 
unusual  hedges  and  bushes.  Rare  fir-trees 
and  evergreens  cast  dark-green  shadows 
among  the  fresh  branches.  Drooping  wil- 
lows lean  from  the  banks  over  the  water 
and  form  cosy  corners  where  a  boat  may  be 
moored  curtained  off  from  the  vivid  glare. 

Surely  nothing  could  exceed  the  wealth 
of  colour,  the  fragrance  of  the  hour,  the 
nobility  of  curve  and  line,  the  tranquillity  of 
the  fair  prospect — and  we  are  thankful. 

Among  all  the  gardens  of  this  district 
which  are  open  to  visitors  it  is  difficult  to 
pick  out  favourites,  for  each  has  its  par- 
ticular perfection.  It  is  only  possible  to 
specialize  a  little.  Thus  Rovelli's  famous 
nursery-garden  is  a  typical  collection  of 
trees  and  flowers,  a  veritable  botanical  estab- 
lishment. The  Villa  Franzosini  gardens  near 

26 


Pallanza 

Intra  offer  special  attractions  by  reason  of 
the  arrangement  of  their  horticultural  treas- 
ures. Villa  Ada  contains  an  extraordinary 
abundance  of  foreign  trees.  Villa  Browne- 
Casanova  takes  ranks  as  a  conservatory  of 
rare  plants.  But  seeing  is  believing  in  mat- 
ters botanical,  and  the  traveller  himself  is 
best  fitted  to  make  his  own  selection  and 
preference,  if  this  can  be  done  at  all. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE  BORROMEAN  ISLANDS:  ISOLA  BELLA, 
ISOLA  DEI  PESCATORI,  ISOLA  MADRE,  ISOLA 
SAN  GIOVANNI 

THESE  islands  constitute  a  challenge  from 
the  tropics  thrown  with  full  force  into  the 
very  faces  of  the  stern,  arctic  Alps.  It  is 
not  possible  to  stay  at  Pallanza,  or  the  other 
lakeside  resorts  of  lower  Lago  Maggiore, 
without  desiring  to  pay  a  visit  to  those  won- 
der islands  that  beckon  so  constantly  from 
the  blue  gulf.  They  excite  curiosity,  sur- 
prise, and  admiration,  and  irresistibly  draw 
the  sightseer  for  a  nearer  view. 

Therefore  some  morning,  when  the  birds 
are  calling  to  each  other  from  bush  to  bush 
in  the  fair  Italian  garden  of  the  hotel,  and 
are  telling  each  other  much  good  news  in 
liquid  musical  phrases  that  transcend  any 
Leitmotiven,  even  of  the  greatest  masters, 
when  the  water  sparkles  invitingly  and  not 
too  vividly,  emitting  a  sense  of  youth,  fresh- 

28 


The  Borromean  Islands 

ness,  and  enterprise,  then  let  the  boatmen 
who  are  waiting  eagerly  for  the  chance  row 
you  out  to  these  islands,  justly  famed  among 
lovers  of  the  picturesque  for  uniqueness  in 
structure,  site,  and  adornment.  Moreover, 
they  are  quite  different,  one  from  another, 
and  thus  provide  material  for  several  excur- 
sions. 

The  Borromean  Islands  are  four  in  num- 
ber and  derive  their  name  from  the  family 
of  the  Counts  of  Borromeo,  to  which  three 
of  them  belong,  Isola  Bella,  Isola  Madre, 
and  the  little  Isola  San  Giovanni,  close  to 
Pallanza.  Isola  dei  Pescatori  is  reported 
to  be  owned  by  the  fisherfolk,  who  inhabit 
it  as  an  hereditary  freehold.  Of  the  whole 
number  Isola  Bella  is  the  most  noted  for 
the  exuberance  and  opulence  of  its  artificial 
ornamentation.  Isola  Madre  is  the  largest 
in  point  of  area,  Isola  dei  Pescatori  is  the 
most  populous,  though  also  the  simplest  in 
point  of  ornamentation,  and  Isola  San  Gio- 
vanni the  smallest.  The  visitor  can  take  his 
choice  among  these  several  attractions,  and 
while  he  is  being  rowed  across  the  lake  it 
may  be  interesting  for  him  to  know  some- 
thing of  the  history  of  these  islands. 

In  her  exquisite  book,  "  Italian  Villas  and 
29 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Their  Gardens,"  Miss  Edith  Wharton  calls 
attention  to  the  fact  that,  "  On  the  walls  of 
the  muniment-room  of  the  old  Borromeo 
palace  in  Milan,  Michelino,  a  little  known 
painter  of  the  fifteenth  century,  has  depicted 
the  sports  and  diversions  of  that  noble  fam- 
ily ...  against  the  background  of  Lake 
Maggiore  and  the  Borromean  Islands." 
This  is  artistic  testimony  to  the  early  pos- 
session of  the  island  by  the  family  whose 
name  they  bear. 

L.  Boniforti  in  his  excellent  little  guide 
to  the  islands  mentions  a  document  of  1397, 
issued  by  Emperor  Wenceslaus,  in  which  the 
islands  are  recorded  as  belonging  to  the 
county  of  Angera,  of  which  the  family  of 
Borromeo  became  the  partial  feudal  rulers 
in  1441.  These  islands  received  the  particu- 
lar attention  of  successive  members  of  the 
Borromean  family,  and  were  by  them  beau- 
tified until  they  have  become  famous  the 
world  over.  The  work  of  adornment  on 
Isola  Bella  was  begun  in  1632  by  Count 
Carlo  Borromeo,  the  third  of  that  name, 
who  built  a  small  villa  there.  It  was  a 
Count  Vitaliano,  the  fourth  of  that  name, 
who  conceived  the  idea  of  building  a  large 
chateau  and  giving  that  island  its  present 

30 


Isola  Bella 

marvellous  aspect,  calling  to  his  service 
artists  and  architects  and  covering  the  barren 
rocky  surface  with  fruitful  soil.  The  work 
occupied  the  years  from  1650-71. 

Isola  Bella 

As  the  boat  glides  out  into  the  deeper 
portions  of  the  Bay  of  Pallanza,  the  water 
that  laughingly  laps  the  bow  grows  richer 
in  colour  and  we  seem  to  have  ventured 
forth  upon  some  inlet  of  the  Caribbean  Sea. 
Presently  Isola  Bella  looms  up  in  all  its 
startling  originality,  a  huge  palazzo  partly 
unfinished,  at  one  end,  and  gardens  of  ex- 
traordinary fantasy  at  the  other.  Lines  of 
age,  reinforced  by  the  never  ceasing  caress 
of  plant  life,  have  happily  broken  what 
might  seem  to  northern  eyes  an  excessive  arti- 
ficiality, and  the  foliage  of  superb  exotics 
has  softened  the  extreme  regularity  and 
straightness  of  stone  terrace  and  balustrade. 
As  we  land  at  the  great  water  steps,  the  cen- 
turies roll  back  and  we  become  the  guests 
of  an  open-handed  magnate  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  whose  hospitality  is  exhib- 
ited in  a  display  of  all  that  the  arts  of  his 
day,  big  and  little,  could  do  to  make  his 


The  Italian  Lakes 

island  villeggiatura  splendid  and  sumptuous. 
Certainly  he  and  his  helpers  succeeded  in 
wresting  from  the  climate  an  assent  to  all 
the  changes,  transformations,  and  vagaries 
they  could  invent,  and  in  turning  the  alpine 
non  possumus  into  a  silent  permission.  As 
guests  we  delight  in  this  characteristic  of 
our  host  and  proceed  to  enjoy  our  further 
explorations  in  his  domain  with  redoubled 
zest. 

An  obliging  guide  will  give  the  student 
visitor  all  necessary  details  of  the  grand 
palazzo,  and  a  catalogue  of  the  pictures  is 
provided,  which  contains  the  names  of  paint- 
ers and  copyists,  as  the  case  may  be.  For 
the  many  tourist  visitors,  comprising  all 
nationalities  and  tastes,  a  general  survey  of 
the  palazzo  will  doubtless  suffice. 

From  the  grand  staircase  we  are  ushered 
through  a  bewildering  succession  of  rooms, 
serving  all  manner  of  purposes  and  decorated 
in  all  manner  of  styles.  There  is  a  dining- 
hall,  a  throne-room,  a  royal  bedchamber,  a 
picture-gallery,  a  grand  ballroom,  and  a 
variety  of  rooms  devoted  to  conversation, 
billiards,  music,  besides  many  bedrooms, 
among  these  also  the  one  in  which  Napo- 
leon I.  once  slept.  Though  the  picture-gal- 

32 


THE   GARDEN   OF   ISOLA   BELLA 


I  sola  Bella 

lery  is  poor  in  masterpieces,  the  apartments 
are  full  of  objects  of  value,  and  many  of  the 
rooms  are  rich  in  Genoese  or  Florentine 
furniture,  costly  marbles,  Venetian  glass, 
and  a  great  profusion  of  medallions,  vases, 
busts,  and  coats  of  arms. 

The  grotto  galleries  underneath  the  cha- 
teau are  particularly  curious  and  fantastic. 
Whatever  may  be  the  verdict  of  the  visitor 
upon  the  shell  patterns  to  be  seen  there,  the 
imitation  stalactite  caves  and  the  novel  fan- 
cies of  the  designers,  still  there  is  room  to 
admire  the  persistent  enthusiasm  of  the 
builder  of  the  chateau  and  of  his  assistants, 
who,  together,  so  successfully  set  at  defiance 
all  the  difficulties  they  encountered,  in  their 
determination  to  make  of  Isola  Bella  a 
beauty-spot  according  to  their  ideal,  —  and 
sui  generis.  In  passing  out  of  the  building 
into  the  gardens  a  corridor  is  used,  the  walls 
of  which  are  hung  with  seven  Gobelins  set- 
ting forth  mythological  subjects,  and  said 
to  be  unsurpassed  by  those  of  any  other  col- 
lection of  Gobelins  for  richness  of  colour. 

And  so  we  find  ourselves  in  the  far-famed 
gardens  of  Isola  Bella!  They  constitute  a 
veritable  park  into  whose  restricted  area  the 
original  designer  sought  to  crowd  so  much 

33 


The  Italian  Lakes 

of  horticultural  and  sylvan  beauty,  that  per- 
force he  was  obliged  to  cause  the  island  to 
bulge  up  in  the  centre  and  rise  into  a  pyra- 
mid to  the  height  of  over  one  hundred  feet 
above  the  lake  surface,  in  ten  tiers  or  ter- 
races. The  gardener  had  so  much  to  say  in 
his  art  and  way,  that  he  had  to  invent  this 
method  of  expressing  himself.  Not  other- 
wise can  one  explain  the  profusion  of  super- 
imposed parterres  and  piazzas  decorated 
with  statues,  rotundas,  and  belvederes,  one 
more  elaborate  than  the  other,  each  with 
distinct  characteristics,  —  and  each  deter- 
mined not  to  be  outdone  by  the  others. 
There  is  the  grove  of  Diana,  the  piazza  of 
Hercules,  the  exotic  garden,  the  grove  of 
love,  the  grove  of  pines,  the  palm  garden, 
the  rose  garden,  the  grove  of  Julia,  the  pla- 
teau of  New  Holland,  and  the  grove  of 
Elise.  It  is  as  though  all  these  proofs  of 
Italian  garden-art  were  vying  for  some 
point  of  vantage,  in  order  the  better  to  be 
seen,  and  thus  to  be  in  position  to  give  a 
louder  and  more  conspicuous  welcome  to 
the  visitor  of  the  hour. 

A  mass  of  little  paths  carefully  bordered 
lead  maze-like  from  wonder  to  wonder. 
Here  are  tree-like  camellias  and  oleanders, 

34 


Isola  del  Pescatori 

gigantic  magnolias,  myrtles  and  laurels, 
stately  cedars  and  cypresses.  Orange  and 
lemon  trees  abound,  and  sprinkled  about, 
so  as  to  profit  by  the  green  background,  are 
vases,  grottos,  and  fountains.  It  is  related 
that  Napoleon  I.,  strolling  in  the  park,  when 
he  halted  at  Isola  Bella  on  his  way  to  the 
Italian  plain,  cut  the  ominous  word  bataille 
into  the  bark  of  a  giant  laurel-tree.  Time 
has  happily  obliterated  with  its  weather 
stains  such  effects  as  might  once  have  seemed 
garish.  If  there  is  much  vagary  in  the  con- 
struction of  Isola  Bella,  there  is  at  least  sur- 
prising merit  in  having  hung  these  opulent 
gardens  against  the  sky-line  of  the  barren 
Alps  and  caused  the  naked  rock  to  bloom. 

Isola  del  Pescatori 

This  "  fisher-island "  is  exactly  what  its 
name  would  indicate.  It  contains  neither 
palazzo  nor  hanging  gardens,  but  this  fact 
does  not  prevent  it  from  being  a  favourite 
with  the  painters.  It  contains  a  medley  of 
fishermen's  homes  of  many  colours,  yellow, 
pink,  or  terra-cotta,  that  jostle  each  other 
to  the  very  water's  edge  at  the  eastern  end 
of  the  island.  The  shore  is  generally  lined 

35 


The  Italian  Lakes 

with  fishing-boats,  painted  black  for  the 
most  part,  though  the  writer  recalls  seeing 
one  in  bright  blue.  Fishing-nets  are  spread 
to  dry  on  the  grass  at  the  western  end  of 
the  island,  which  is  reserved  for  them.  A 
cream-coloured  church  tower  rises  above  the 
brown-red  roofs.  Thus  the  fisher-island  pre- 
sents all  its  simple  attractions  at  once  to  the 
eye,  and  is  the  rough  diamond,  the  natural 
jewel,  among  the  islands  of  the  Bay  of  Pal- 
lanza.  We  wish  it  well  in  its  lowly  occu- 
pation and  pass  on  knowing  that  the  water- 
colourists  will  not  overlook  it. 

I  sola  Madre 

The  "  mother  island  "  derives  its  title  from 
the  fact  that  it  was  the  first  of  the  Borro- 
mean  island  possessions  to  be  laid  out  in 
gardens  of  any  description.  It  is  not  only 
the  largest  of  them  all,  but  also  lies  nearly 
in  the  centre  of  the  Bay  of  Pallanza,  thus 
enjoying  a  particularly  commanding  and 
conspicuous  position.  Here  the  same  desire 
as  on  Isola  Bella,  to  express  much  of  the 
gardener's  art  upon  a  relatively  small  area, 
has  resulted  in  the  building  of  five  terraces, 
surmounted,  in  this  case,  by  a  little-used 

36 


SAVENO  AND  ISOLA  DEI  VESCATORI 


Isola  Madre 

palazzo  whose  chief  charm  is  its  view  over 
lake,  shore,  and  mountain.  Less  artificial 
in  arrangement  than  the  gardens  of  Isola 
Bella,  those  of  Isola  Madre  are  generally 
found  more  in  keeping  with  natural  beauty 
as  northern  eyes  are  accustomed  to  see  it. 
They  are  less  crowded,  and  their  orange  and 
lemon  trellises,  the  walled  gardens,  the  cy- 
presses, laurels,  and  pines  have  spread  more 
at  ease  over  a  wider  surface.  The  island  is 
greatly  admired  by  artists  and,  because  not 
accessible  by  steamboat,  draws  to  it  particu- 
larly those  who  rejoice  in  its  simple  tran- 
quillity. 

Writing  to  his  mother  from  Baveno  (a 
favourite  stopping-place  of  his),  on  August 
24,  1854,  Ruskin  stated:  "Architecture  I 
can  draw  very  nearly  like  an  architect,  and 
trees  a  great  deal  better  than  most  botanists, 
and  mountains  rather  better  than  most  geol- 
ogists, and  now  I  am  going  actually  to  draw 
some  garden  for  you,  out  of  Isola  Madre, 
and  study  some  of  its  bee-haunted  aloes  to- 
morrow morning,  if  it  be  fine:  it  is  sweet 
to  see  the  aloe  with  two  or  three  hives  of 
bees  about  it,  making  its  yellow  blossoms 
yellower." 

From    the   high-placed    palazzo   of    Isola 

37 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Madre,  as  a  point  of  vantage,  the  interplay 
of  lights  upon  the  water  can  be  watched  to 
particular  advantage.  Out  beyond  the  bor- 
ders of  the  island,  an  afternoon  calm  has 
enamelled  the  water  a  gentle  turquoise  blue, 
upon  which  the  passing  boats  paint  streaks 
in  tints  of  green.  There  is  a  silken  gloss 
of  white  where  the  sun  strikes  with  full 
force.  The  wash  of  water-colours  is  in  evi- 
dence rather  than  the  solid  look  of  oils.  On 
the  fresh  water  of  the  Italian  lakes  there  is 
no  habitual  tumble  of  surf,  no  roar  along 
the  seaweed,  for  the  water  can  be  counted 
upon  to  stay  pretty  much  at  the  same  level, 
except  at  long  intervals  of  time  or  in  seasons 
of  catastrophe.  Hence  there  are  no  stretches 
of  unsightly  mud  exposed  by  receding  tides, 
but  the  well-trained  water  dances  up  to  the 
lake  walls  and  terraces,  —  splashes  prettily, 
but  advances  no  farther. 

Isola  San  Giovanni 

Familiarly  known  as  an  isolino,  because 
it  is  so  small  and  clings  so  closely  to  mother 
land,  San  Giovanni  presents  little  of  special 
scenic  interest  to  the  tourist  who  has  visited 
the  larger  islands  of  the  group.  Its  vegeta- 

38 


Isola  San  Giovanni 

tion  is  luxuriant  and  it  possesses  a  small  villa. 
Historically  it  is  of  importance,  because  it 
was  the  site  of  a  Roman  castellum  and  of 
an  early  Christian  church,  and  was  the  home 
of  the  nobles  De  Castello  Barbavara,  to 
whom,  as  already  stated,  the  island  along 
with  Pallanza  was  ceded  by  Emperor  Bar- 
barossa  in  1152. 

As  the  boat  glides  homeward-bound,  the 
fresh-water,  soft-water  look  of  the  lake  is 
unmistakable  in  the  purity,  clearness,  and 
limpid  placidity  of  the  Bay  of  Pallanza. 
Later  on  it  will  be  time  enough  for  the 
regular  breeze  to  draw  down  at  close  of  day 
from  distant  heights  of  snow,  through  ravine 
and  valley,  into  the  great  plain  of  Lombardy. 
On  the  way  it  will  pass  over  Lago  Maggiore 
and  ruffle  its  surface,  first  into  silvery  streaks 
and  then  into  kindly  wavelets  that  mean  no 
harm  to  men  and  things,  but  brighten  the 
evening  with  the  promise  of  a  cool  night. 
And  about  that  time  the  nightingales  will 
begin  to  sing  their  loveliest  in  the  wonder 
gardens  of  the  Borromean  Islands. 


LOWER  LAGO  MAGGIORE:  ARONA,  CARLO  BOR- 
ROMEO,  FROM  ARONA  TO  STRESA,  ANTONIO 
ROSMINI  -  SERBATI,  FROM  BAVENO  TO  LA- 
VENO 

LAGO  MAGGIORE  can  be  approached  from 
many  sides,  and  so  there  is  at  all  times  a 
pleasant  crisscross  of  tourists  upon  its  waters. 
One  of  the  principal  tides  of  travel  comes 
from  Milan  by  rail  and  touches  the  lake  at 
Arona,  where  steamboats  are  in  waiting  to 
make  that  famous  journey  up  the  lake,  which 
is  so  full  of  joyous  surprises,  sudden  tran- 
sitions, and  noble  prospects.  At  least  the 
steamboat  time-tables  begin  the  trip  of  lower 
Lake  Maggiore  with  Arona,  and  it  will  not 
be  out  of  order  for  us  to  do  the  same. 

Arona 

The  railroad  from  Milan  traverses  a  flat 
and  fertile  plain,  where  vineyards,  planta- 
tions of  American  corn,  and  rows  of  mul- 

40 


Arona 

berry-trees  succeed  each  other  for  miles. 
Presently  some  poplars  fluttering  their  silver- 
lined  leaves  to  the  breeze  betray  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Ticino.  The  river  greets  us  after 
its  long  journey  down  the  length  of  the  lake. 
The  station  of  Sesto  Calende  is  passed  and 
the  lake  bursts  into  view  at  Arona. 

The  little  town  has  its  big  open  square,  its 
row  of  hotels,  and  its  quay  planted  with 
shade-trees.  Along  the  lake  wall  business- 
like black  barges  are  loading  and  unloading 
coal,  fishing-nets  hang  to  dry,  and  white 
awninged  rowboats  ride  on  the  wavelets 
made  by  the  steamboat.  Off  to  the  north- 
east the  crenelated  castle  of  Angera,  a  fief 
of  the  family  of  Borromeo,  gives  a  mediaeval 
aspect  to  the  landscape.  Some  wooded  slopes 
contrast  gently  with  the  open  fields. 

The  position  of  Arona  at  the  outlet  of  the 
lake  gave  it  importance  and  prestige  even 
during  the  Roman  era.  It  counts  to-day  as 
one  of  the  most  populous  of  the  lake  towns, 
and  is  active,  not  only  in  introducing  travel- 
lers to  the  grandeur  of  Lago  Maggiore,  but 
also  as  an  industrial  centre.  A  tablet  on 
the  walls  of  the  Hotel  Reale  states  that  Gari- 
baldi stayed  there  in  the  year  1848.  His- 
torically speaking,  Arona  is  chiefly  notice- 

41 


The  Italian  Lakes 

able  as  the  original  seat  of  the  family  of 
Borromeo,  whose  ancestral  castle,  however, 
was  destroyed  by  the  French  in  1797. 

In  a  letter  to  his  father  in  1858,  referring 
to  Turner's  picture,  entitled  "  Arona,  Lago 
Maggiore,"  Ruskin  writes: 

"  I  had  made  up  my  mind  before  arriving 
here  to  find  Mr.  Turner's  port  a  thing  of 
the  past,  and  a  beautiful  new  quay  for  steam- 
ers, with  an  '  embarcadere '  opposite  for  the 
railroad,  in  its  place.  I  thought  myself 
therefore  more  fortunate  to  find  the  two 
towers  still  left,  though  the  whole  further 
side  of  the  port,  with  its  arches,  has,  just 
as  I  expected,  been  turned  into  a  grand  quay 
for  the  steamers.  The  near  side  of  the  port 
with  the  garden  and  trees  must  from  the  first 
have  been  drawn  out  of  Turner's  head,  as 
there  are  large  houses  on  that  side  (of  the 
towers)  which  clearly  date  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  last  century.  But  the  terrible 
roguery  is  in  the  hills.  No  such  hills  are, 
or  ever  were,  in  sight  from  Arona.  They 
are  gathered  together,  hill  by  hill,  partly 
from  the  Battes  of  Oleggio,  partly  from 
above  the  town  here,  partly  from  half-way 
up  the  lake  near  Baveno,  and  then  all  thrown 
together  in  one  grand  imaginary  chain." 

42 


Carlo  Borromeo 


Carlo  Borromeo    (1538-84) 

On  the  outskirts  of  Arena,  above  the  vine- 
yards and  surmounting  a  slope  of  green, 
rises  the  colossal  statue,  in  bronze,  of  Cardi- 
nal Carlo  Borromeo,  the  most  famous  mem- 
ber of  a  family  famous  in  the  annals  of 
Milanese  territory.  The  statue  with  its  ped- 
estal is  113  feet  in  height  and  was  erected 
in  1697.  The  figure  is  turned  toward  Milan. 
Carlo  Borromeo's  uncle,  Cardinal  de  Med- 
ici, became  Pope  Pius  IV.,  and  shortly  after 
the  nephew  was  made  Archbishop  of  Milan. 
He  showed  great  energy  in  the  administra- 
tion of  his  diocese.  In  accordance  with  the 
decrees  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  he  set  about 
correcting  the  ecclesiastical  irregularities  in 
existence,  first  in  the  city  of  Milan,  then  in 
the  country  districts,  in  spite  of  much  oppo- 
sition on  the  part  of  those  whose  interests 
he  had  disturbed.  During  the  plague  which 
swept  Milan  and  its  surroundings,  he  dis- 
played great  zeal  in  visiting  the  sick,  organ- 
izing relief,  and  taking  such  measures  as 
the  knowledge  of  the  times  deemed  effica- 
cious and  necessary.  Such  acts  endeared  him 
to  the  people  and  caused  his  memory  to  be 

43 


The  Italian  Lakes 

specially   cherished    throughout    the    Italian 
lakes  region. 

From  Arona  to  Stresa 

There  is  some  scurrying  aboard  among  the 
passengers,  sailors,  clad  as  neatly  as  those  of 
an  Atlantic  liner,  draw  in  a  few  last  haw- 
sers, the  water  churns  and  foams,  and  the 
steamboat  leaves  Arona  on  its  joyous  ven- 
ture up  the  lake.  The  shores  immediately 
rise  higher  and  the  slopes  are  seen  to  be 
dotted  with  hamlets  from  which  Lombard 
campanili  detach  themselves.  Stray,  warm- 
weather  clouds  catch  upon  the  hilltops,  or 
trail  from  them  like  volcano  smoke.  The 
water,  which  at  first  looks  green  and  shallow, 
gains  in  depth  and  turns  blue.  A  delightful 
sense  of  growing  freshness  envelops  the  boat. 
The  travellers  on  deck  now  use  their  field- 
glasses  in  order  that  no  item  of  the  expand- 
ing scene  may  escape  them. 

Whenever  the  boat  stops,  there  is  an  inter- 
esting coming  and  going  of  passengers  and 
sightseers  at  the  landing-places.  At  every 
station  carabinieri  (country  policemen)  can 
be  seen  standing,  two  by  two  like  twin  sen- 
tinels, surveying  the  scene  with  benevolent 

44 


THE    UBIQUITOUS   TWIN    CARABINIERI  OF    ITALY 


watchfulness.  They  are  clad  in  the  full 
panoply  of  the  law,  with  cocked  hats  and  red 
stripes,  and,  if  the  day  be  Sunday,  they  wear 
an  extra  cockade  of  red  and  blue,  while  their 
coat-tails  take  on  further  embroidered  gor- 
geousness.  At  many  places  the  boat  does  not 
dock,  but  slows  down  and  receives  passengers 
who  come  alongside  in  a  rowboat  with  the 
postman  and  the  bag  of  mail.  There  is  a 
rapid  exchange  of  passengers  and  mail-bags, 
a  flying  leap,  and  a  sudden  separation. 

By  degrees  the  lakeside  villages  of  Meina, 
Lesa,  and  Belgirate  are  left  behind,  each 
provided  with  a  tiny  harbour  and  beautified 
by  an  array  of  villas,  terraced  gardens,  trail- 
ing vines,  loggias,  and  arbours.  There  are 
white  houses  with  green  blinds,  others  tinted 
yellow,  pink,  blue,  or  brick-red,  the  smallest 
excuse  and  the  least  provocation  only  being 
needed  to  cause  these  walls  to  blossom  into 
colour.  Once  in  awhile  a  ravine  comes  down 
to  the  water's  edge,  filled  with  chestnut-trees 
and  leading  the  eye  back  inland  to  heights, 
where  villages  are  momentarily  revealed, 
hiding  in  the  pockets  of  the  hills.  Lesa  was 
for  many  years  the  place  of  residence  of 
Alessandro  Manzoni,  author  of  "  I  Promessi 
Sposi "  (see  page  240). 

41 


The  Italian  Lakes 

After  Belgirate  there  comes  one  of  those 
complete  changes  so  characteristic  of  all 
lakes  lying  under  the  scenic  influence  of  the 
Alps.  It  is  a  change  from  low  hills  and 
vine-clad  slopes  to  the  sight  of  lofty  moun- 
tains and  the  perspective  of  everlasting 
snows.  As  the  corner  is  gradually  turned, 
the  headland  of  Castagnola  appears  with 
its  dark  trees  setting  off  white  hotels;  Sasso 
del  Ferro  rears  its  summit  boldly  in  the  east; 
the  great  Bay  of  Pallanza  opens  wide  and 
fair,  with  the  Borromean  Islands  strung 
across  it  like  so  many  jewels;  and  Monte 
Rosa  glistens  pure  white  upon  the  farther 
horizon.  Everything  on  the  way  up  from 
Arona  seems  to  have  led,  by  a  well-studied 
crescendo,  to  this  final  burst  of  beauty,  where 
the  narrow  arm  of  lower  Lago  Maggiore 
becomes  in  a  moment  a  bay  of  singular 
splendour.  On  the  way  up,  all  the  para- 
phernalia of  Italian  life  and  its  stock  prop- 
erties have  been  passed  in  review,  as  the 
steamboat  has  glided  in  sight  of  the  shore 
and  made  its  stops,  —  and  all  this  in  order 
to  enhance  the  effect  and  herald  the  glories 
of  the  Gulf  of  Pallanza. 

Of  the  Borromean  Islands,  lying  offshore 
between  Stresa  and  Baveno,  there  is  so  much 

46 


From  <Arona  to  Stresa 

to  say  that  a  special  chapter  has  already 
been  devoted  to  them  in  this  book. 

The  town  of  Stresa  stretches  alongshore 
and  leans  against  Monte  Motterone  for  a 
background.  It  presents  an  appearance  of 
much  distinction,  and  outwardly,  at  least, 
leads  a  life  full  of  calm  strolling  leisure. 
The  grand  hotel  and  the  handsome  villas  are 
all  provided  with  gardens  in  which  the  hor- 
ticultural marvels  of  this  exceptional  region 
flourish  with  special  success.  But  Stresa's 
principal  claim  to  the  attention  of  the  polite 
public  is  due  to  the  presence  there  of  the 
villa  of  the  Duchess  of  Genoa.  This  villa 
ducale  is  not  exceptionally  sumptuous  nor 
elaborate  in  appearance,  as  ducal  villas  go, 
but  it  conveys  the  impression  of  great  com- 
fort and  elegance,  and  the  good  people  of 
Stresa  consider  themselves  fortunate  in  hav- 
ing so  welcome  and  beloved  a  guest  in  their 
midst. 

At  Stresa  it  is  possible  to  make  a  pleasant 
sojourn  and  catch  many  side  glimpses  into 
the  life  of  the  people,  which  are  necessarily 
excluded  from  a  rapid  round  of  the  lake. 

For  example,  some  fine  day  you  will 
awaken  to  find  the  quay  in  possession  of 
merrymakers.  Little  booths  have  been 

47 


The  Italian  Lakes 

erected  under  the  carefully  trimmed  line 
of  shade-trees,  and  in  the  open  space  amus- 
ing couples  are  revolving  gaily  to  the  tune 
of  a  band.  The  stately  carabinieri  are  on 
hand  in  full  feather,  and  flags  fly  from  the 
houses  facing  the  water. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  the  tramontana  wind 
bears  down  fiercely  upon  Stresa,  clarifies  the 
atmosphere  to  crystal  purity,  produces  a 
veritable  and  formidable  fresh-water  surf, 
and  bends  the  trees  on  the  quay  to  a  dan- 
gerous curve.  Again,  in  the  midst  of  the 
summer  season,  when  those  who  speak  the 
northern  tongues  have  moved  to  cooler 
climes  and  the  Italians  of  the  cities  have 
come  to  Stresa  for  their  refreshing,  an  inter- 
esting regatta  is  held  similar  to  the  one  at 
Como,  in  which  the  oarsmen  manage  gon- 
dola-shells with  extraordinary  dexterity, 
standing  up  and  rowing  forward. 

As  the  steamboat  glides  near  the  Stresa 
shore,  a  flock  of  yellow  sheep  come  patter- 
ing along  the  highway.  They  are  of  the 
long-legged  Italian  kind,  and  their  shep- 
herd is  clad  in  homespun  and  carries  a  staff. 
The  church-bells  are  ringing,  and  when  the 
boat  draws  near,  they  may  be  seen  perform- 
ing strange  antics  in  their  lofty  towers,  stand- 

48 


Antonio  Rosmini  -  Serbati 

ing  on  their  heads  and  tumbling  about  joy- 
ously. 

On  the  hill  back  of  Stresa  is  a  large  white 
building  which  recalls  the  name  of  Antonio 
Rosmini-Serbati,  the  founder  of  the  Insti- 
tute of  Charity. 

Antonio   Rosmini-Serbati    (1^97  ~  I^55} 

Rosmini,  like  his  friend  Manzoni,  was  of 
patrician  birth.  He  was  from  Rovereto  in 
Tyrol,  hence,  politically  speaking,  was  born 
on  Austrian  soil. 

There  seems  to  be  no  question  that  the 
founder  of  the  Institute  of  Charity  (better 
known  as  the  Order  of  Rosminians)  was 
very  precocious  as  a  child.  His  biographers 
report  that  at  five  years  of  age  he  had  a 
fair  knowledge  of  the  Bible;  that  his  favour- 
ite game  was  to  pretend  being  a  hermit,  in 
order  to  meditate  upon  the  lives  of  the  saints. 
Even  his  nurse  seems  to  have  expected  him 
to  astonish  the  world,  for  she  carefully 
treasured  up  his  baby-clothes,  and  would 
surrender  them  to  no  one  until  after  Ros- 
mini's  death.  Curiously  enough,  the  boy, 
when  sent  to  school,  like  Manzoni,  showed 
a  surprising  degree  of  stupidity  in  his  les- 

49 


The  Italian  Lakes 

sons;  while  all  the  time,  at  home  in  his 
uncle's  library,  he  read  for  amusement  and 
inwardly  digested  the  works  of  Thomas 
Aquinas  and  Augustine,  thus  forming  the 
basis  of  his  future  philosophy. 

He  was  sent  to  the  University  of  Padua. 
From  Padua  he  retired  to  Rovereto  once 
more,  there  to  continue  his  reading  of  the 
philosophers  in  retirement.  The  classic 
writers,  the  Church  fathers,  the  mediaeval 
schoolmen,  the  modern  rationalists  and  posi- 
tivists,  —  all  were  passed  in  review,  —  some 
620  authors  in  all.  A  complete  catalogue 
of  his  own  works  contains  ninety-nine  num- 
bers. His  "  Sistema  Filosophico "  alone 
takes  up  more  than  forty  volumes,  purport- 
ing to  be  "  a  veritable  encyclopaedia  of  the 
human  knowable,  synthetically  conjoined." 

/ 

From  Baveno  to  Laveno 

Baveno  has  long  been  a  favourite  resort 
with  the  English.  It  was  there  that  Queen 
Victoria  spent  three  weeks  in  April  of  the 
year  1879,  in  the  superb  Villa  Clara  belong- 
ing to  Mr.  Henfrey.  Somewhat  larger  than 
Stresa,  Baveno  yet  strongly  resembles  the 
former  place  in  general  appearance,  in  the 

50 


From  Baveno  to  Laveno 

style  of  its  dwellings  and  park-like  gardens. 
It  is  %known  to  the  Italian  world  more  par- 
ticularly on  account  of  its  pink  granite  quar- 
ries, which  have  provided  columns  for  some 
of  Italy's  greatest  structures,  and  indeed  have 
been  in  use  since  the  time  of  the  Romans. 
These  quarries,  and  those  of  Montorfano, 
gleam  and  glare  from  afar,  when  the  boat 
rounds  the  corner  at  Stresa,  and  in  conjunc- 
tion with  the  white  houses  of  Baveno  they 
form  an  excellent  background  to  throw  into 
relief  the  islands  of  Isola  Bella  and  Isola 
dei  Pescatori. 

The  boat  now  crosses  over  to  Pallanza,  to 
which  place  a  separate  chapter  in  this  book 
has  already  been  assigned;  then,  skirting 
the  little  island  of  San  Giovanni  and  round- 
ing the  Punta  della  Castagnola,  it  reaches 
Intra,  situated  upon  alluvial  deposit  between 
two  mountain  torrents.  Hence  the  name, 
Intra  meaning  "  between." 

If  Pallanza  is  notable  for  its  charms  as 
a  visitors'  resort,  Intra  impresses  one  chiefly 
as  a  busy  commercial  place.  It  has  a  little 
harbour  protected  by  high  walls,  where  the 
shipping  of  its  particular  needs  can  take 
shelter  when  the  north  wind  blows.  There 
are  factories  belonging  mostly  to  Swiss  firms, 


The  Italian  Lakes 

and  much  coal  is  needed,  so  that  Intra  may 
look  a  trifle  grimy  in  comparison  with  its 
neighbours  along  the  lake,  but  the  artistic 
impulse  is  not  stifled.  Intra  possesses  no  less 
than  four  public  statues,  one  of  Garibaldi, 
another  of  Victor  Emmanuel,  one  of  Colo- 
nel Simonetta  to  commemorate  those  who 
fell  in  the  wars  of  independence,  and  an- 
other to  a  famous  physician,  Restellini. 
The  place  is  an  active  and  alert  centre  of 
thought,  and  by  its  energy  is  helpful  in 
awakening  some  of  the  dormant  capabilities 
for  world-work  among  the  population  of 
Lago  Maggiore.  There  is  good  grass-land 
in  the  neighbourhood;  the  small  landhold- 
ers and  proprietors  are  also  rather  more 
numerous  here  than  near  most  of  the  lake- 
side towns. 

In  Italy  the  agricultural  land  question  is 
at  present  complicated  by  a  great  diversity 
of  contracts  between  landlords,  middlemen, 
tenants,  and  agricultural  labourers.  In  the 
least  fruitful  or  mountainous  districts  there 
are  many  peasant  proprietors.  The  irri- 
gated lands  of  the  plain  of  Lombardy,  which 
are  extraordinarily  fertile,  are  cultivated 
upon  one  plan,  the  vineyards  of  Piedmont 
upon  another,  and  so  throughout  Italy  down 

52 


From  Baveno  to  Laveno 

to  Sicily,  where  the  condition  of  the  labour- 
ers may  be  said  to  leave  most  to  be  desired. 

The  road  northward  out  of  Intra,  toward 
Oggebbio,  is  justly  famous  for  some  of  the 
finest  villa  gardens  on  the  lake,  rich  in  ca- 
mellias, magnolias,  palms,  and  eucalypti, 
and  the  short  walk  to  Pallanza  is  also  espe- 
cially repaying  for  the  same  reason.  The 
many  charming  villas  which  have  found  a 
resting-place  for  themselves  and  their  ter- 
raced gardens  along  the  rocky  shore  display 
the  greatest  possible  individuality.  In  or- 
der to  obtain  some  idea  of  the  skill  and  the 
sense  of  proportion  in  road-building  which 
is  so  characteristic  of  Italian  work  of  this 
kind,  a  leisurely  stroll  along  this  same  road 
is  full  of  delight.  Such  solidity,  such  con- 
stant repair,  such  care  in  grading,  such  a 
conquest  of  natural  obstacles,  and  such 
glimpses  the  while  over  the  lake,  lapping 
the  rocks  below  and  stretching  over  to  the 
farther  shore,  where  Laveno  lies  expectant 
at  the  foot  of  Sasso  del  Ferro! 

At  length  the  boat  touches  at  Laveno, 
which  must  be  reckoned  as  a  railroad  centre 
of  considerable  importance,  as  things  go  in 
the  region  of  the  Italian  lakes.  At  this  point 
there  is  rail  connection  with  Varese,  Como, 

53 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Milan,  Novara,  Genoa,  and  with  the  St. 
Gothard  route  into  Switzerland.  The  bay 
occupies  a  certain  strategic  position  with 
reference  to  the  lake  which  did  not  escape 
the  Romans  and  gave  it  temporary  value  in 
modern  times  to  the  Austrians,  under  whom 
Laveno  became  a  military  port  and  the  seat 
of  an  arsenal.  It  was  against  Laveno  that 
Garibaldi  directed  an  unsuccessful  assault 
in  1859.  The  fortifications  have  long  since 
been  razed,  and  to-day  their  site  serves 
chiefly  as  a  point  of  vantage  for  a  superb 
view  over  lake  and  mountains.  The  china 
manufactured  at  Laveno  enjoys  some  repu- 
tation in  Italy,  but  for  the  travelling  public 
the  place  is  chiefly  prized  as  a  point  of  de- 
parture, as  a  through  station.  From  here 
the  excursion  up  Sasso  del  Ferro  is  generally 
undertaken,  also  the  visit  to  Santa  Caterina 
del  Sasso,  a  little  church  perched  in  a  seem- 
ingly inaccessible  position,  high  above  the 
lake. 

From  a  scenic  point  of  view  this  eastern 
side  of  Lago  Maggiore  has  the  special  ad- 
vantage of  facing,  not  only  the  great  open 
Gulf  of  Pallanza  with  its  islands,  but  also  the 
distant  snow  slopes  of  Monte  Rosa,  so  that 
when  the  steamboat  finally  touches  at  Laveno 

54 


From  Baveno  to  Laveno 

and  leaves  us  upon  the  quay,  we  are  tempted 
to  pause  before  we  undertake  to  see  more. 
There  is  a  desire  to  draw  breath,  until  the 
succession  of  extraordinary  beauties  which 
have  marked  this  tour  of  lower  Lago  Mag- 
giore  can  be  disentangled  one  from  another, 
arranged  in  some  kind  of  order,  sorted  and 
labelled,  their  relative  values  ascertained, 
and  our  special  tastes  consulted. 

In  the  meantime,  there  is  a  sense  that  joy- 
ous memories  are  being  garnered  for  winter 
days  in  distant  northern  homes,  where  the 
sun  does  not  shine  as  often,  nor  the  water 
sparkle  quite  as  gaily. 


55 


CHAPTER  VI 


UPPER  LAGO  MAGGIORE:    THE  LAKE  OF  LO- 
CARNO, BERNARDINO  LUINI 

THE  Romans  called  Lago  Maggiore  by 
the  beautiful  name  of  Lacus  Verbanus,  a 
name  suggestive  of  vernal  freshness,  even 
though  etymologists  may  not  grant  the  lin- 
guistic inference.  This  superb  sheet  of  water 
is  about  thirty-seven  miles  long,  and  varies 
from  one  and  a  half  to  three  miles  in  width. 
The  principal  and  regular  winds  are  the 
tramontana  —  which  in  fair  weather  blows 
in  the  morning  from  the  north  —  and  the 
inverna,  from  the  south  in  the  afternoon. 
These  winds,  on  the  other  Italian  lakes,  are 
variously  called  tivano  or  sover  and  breva 
or  ora.  The  winds  known  as  maggiore  and 
mergozzo  are  occasional,  uncertain,  and  fre- 
quently violent.  There  are  many  species  of 
fish  in  the  lake,  so  that  fishing  is  one  of  the 
regular  occupations  of  the  lacustrine  popu- 
lation. As  in  Lake  Como,  so  in  this  lake,  the 

56 


Upper  Lago  Maggiore 

little  fish  called  agone  is  a  special  favourite 
for  the  table.  The  river  Ticino,  after  busy- 
ing itself  in  giving  a  name  to  the  only 
Italian-speaking  Canton  of  Switzerland, 
plunges  into  the  upper  end  of  the  lake,  trav- 
erses its  entire  length,  clarifying  its  own 
waters  of  silt  in  the  flow  southward,  and 
issues  forth  at  Arona  in  tints  of  pale  trans- 
parent green,  to  wind  its  way  to  the  river 
Po,  and  thus  into  the  Adriatic. 

Historically  speaking,  there  is  not  over- 
much to  record  about  the  ancient  days  of 
Lago  Maggiore.  Special  incidents  in  mod- 
ern history  have  been  and  will  be  mentioned 
in  connection  with  certain  places  on  its 
shores,  as  the  reader  is  invited  to  visit  these 
places  themselves.  In  a  general  way,  it  may 
be  stated  that  the  Romans  founded  numerous 
settlements  by  the  waterside,  and  that  they 
were  succeeded  by  the  Longobards.  Upon 
the  destruction  of  the  power  of  the  latter, 
the  usual  manifestations  of  feudalism  made 
their  appearance.  The  Visconti,  the  Sforza, 
and  the  Borromean  families  of  Milan  played 
conspicuous  roles  in  turn  and  acquired  con- 
trol over  the  more  desirable  positions  along 
the  lake.  Of  these  families  the  Counts  of 
Borromeo  have  retained  numerous  posses- 

57 


The  Italian  Lakes 

sions  to  this  day,  as  has  already  been  indi- 
cated in  preceding  chapters;  and  now  the 
lake  and  its  shores  for  some  nine  miles  down 
from  Locarno  belong  to  the  Swiss  Canton 
of  Ticino  and  all  the  rest  of  Lago  Mag- 
giore  to  Italy. 

The  Lake  of  Locarno 

The  northern  half  of  Lago  Maggiore  has 
a  quality  of  its  own  distinct  from  the  lower 
lake.  In  comparison  with  the  steamboat 
trip  from  Arona  to  Laveno,  that  from  Lo- 
carno to  Laveno  may  be  styled  a  mighty 
diminuendo,  dropping  from  the  alpine 
heights  into  the  lower  levels  of  the  plain. 
But  the  interest  in  men  and  things,  in  the 
beauty  of  the  lakeside  towns  and  their  villas, 
gardens,  trees,  and  flowers,  far  from  dimin- 
ishing, grows  with  every  advance  made 
southward  toward  the  Gulf  of  Pallanza, 
spanning  the  distance  from  Laveno  to  Feri- 
olo.  The  upper  end  of  the  lake  is  enclosed 
by  lofty  ridges,  partly  wooded,  and  is  rela- 
tively alpine  in  its  characteristics.  The  very 
colour  of  the  water  shares  the  spring-time 
freshness  of  the  slopes,  and  gleams  sweetly 
and  profoundly  green.  The  journey  south- 

53 


The  Lake  of  Locarno 

ward  also  means  a  political  transition  from 
the  republic  of  Switzerland  to  the  kingdom 
of  Italy,  as  the  custom-house  officer  will  not 
fail  to  remind  us.  But  whether  the  approach 
be  from  the  snows  of  the  Alps  or  from  the 
plains  of  Lombardy,  Lago  Maggiore  wins 
instant  recognition  as  a  link  between  the 
extremes  of  natural  scenery  symbolized  by 
peak  and  plain;  it  turns  its  prettiest  graces 
toward  the  stern  mountains  and  its  most 
invigorating  and  energetic  airs  to  the  low- 
lands. 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  tourists  arriving 
at  the  borders  of  Lago  Maggiore  from  Lake 
Luzern  over  the  St.  Gothard  to  know  that 
the  former  lake,  on  the  southern  slope  of 
the  Alps,  is  about  twice  the  size  of  the  lat- 
ter situated  on  the  northern  side. 

Before  reaching  Locarno,  the  traveller  has 
doubtless  already  recognized  the  nearness  of 
Italy,  and  in  Locarno  itself  this  impression 
is  greatly  enhanced.  There  is  the  clatter  of 
women's  little  wooden  sandals  on  the  cobble- 
stones. A  donkey  on  the  white  highway 
emits  a  long-drawn  he-haw  —  he-haw,  that 
seems  to  penetrate  through  the  stone  walls, 
climb  the  terraces  where  repose  the  vine- 
yards, cross  the  river,  and  burst  over  the 

S9 


The  Italian  Lakes 

whole  countryside.  The  red  umbrellas  of 
Italy  make  their  appearance  in  the  market- 
place, and  the  arcades  are  filled  with  a  new 
and  special  kind  of  animation,  to  which  the 
northern  side  of  the  Alps  is  a  stranger.  If 
it  is  spring,  the  almond  blossoms  and  the 
peach-trees  in  bloom  on  the  outskirts  tell  of 
warmer  climes,  while  the  exotics  in  the  hotel 
gardens  raise  an  expectancy  of  further  won- 
ders to  come. 

The  author  will  not  stop  here  to  describe 
Locarno  at  length,  having  already  devoted 
some  space  to  this  delightful  subject  in  his 
"  Romance  and  Teutonic  Switzerland,"  but 
a  further  word  or  two  of  appreciation  may 
here  be  pardoned.  Locarno  is  advanta- 
geously situated,  not  only  at  the  head  of  the 
lake,  but  also  at  the  outlet  of  long  and  pop- 
ulous valleys  from  the  north  and  west,  such 
as  Val  Verzasca,  Val  Centovalli,  Val  On- 
sernone,  and  especially  the  Val  Maggia,  rich 
in  scenic  variety,  with  the  village  of  Bi- 
gnasco  as  a  favourite  stopping-place.  A  short 
walk  to  the  Ponte  Brolla  will  initiate  the 
traveller  into  the  special  beauties  of  the 
landward  surroundings  of  Locarno  and  make 
him  wish  for  more.  The  outskirts  are  plen- 
tifully sown  with  little  villages  perched  on 

60 


The  Lake  of  Locarno 

terraces  amid  graceful  vineyards  and  south- 
ern arbours.  Quaint  houses,  distinguished 
by  arches  and  roofed  with  red  tiles,  cluster 
close  together  in  these  villages,  as  though 
still  frightened  by  feudal  enemies  or  anxious 
to  save  all  available  soil  for  growing  ground 
and  fruitful  foothold. 

Locarno's  piazza  del  mercato,  or  market- 
place, is  an  excellent  spot  for  studying  typi- 
cal local  character.  Special  markets  are 
held  on  every  alternate  Thursday.  The 
country  carts  by  land,  and  the  boats  by  water, 
bring  men,  women,  children,  and  produce  to 
this  common  meeting  space.  The  wicker- 
work  baskets  or  hods  carried  on  the  back 
are  everywhere  in  evidence,  —  the  hods 
which  serve  a  multitude  of  varied  purposes 
in  the  domestic  and  agricultural  economy 
of  these  good  people.  Once  in  awhile  an 
ox-cart  swings  lazily  through  the  crowd  with 
its  gentle,  large-eyed  beasts  displaying  coats 
of  cream  colour  or  rich  brown. 

High  above  Locarno  looms  the  church  of 
the  Madonna  del  Sasso,  and  alongshore  rises 
the  square  old  tower  of  San  Querico.  Down 
at  the  harbour,  the  sloping  paved  shore  is 
lined  with  white  awninged  boats  of  ancient 
pattern  and  archaic  model.  Among  them 

61 


The  Italian  Lakes 

lie  some  black  barges,  with  huge  square  sails 
flapping  loosely  in  the  air,  perhaps  to  dry 
after  the  last  shower.  In  between  the  boats, 
wherever  there  is  a  vacant  spot  on  the  shore, 
the  family  washing  is  being  done  by  the 
women  who  scrub  and  slap  their  linen  nois- 
ily, and  call  loudly  to  each  other  to  over- 
top the  clamour  of  their  occupation.  Those 
who  have  finished  their  work  pack  the  wet 
clothing  into  baskets  which  they  lift  dex- 
terously on  to  their  heads,  and  with  many 
last  words  to  those  that  remain,  they  swing 
off  under  their  loads  like  living  Caryatides. 
Others  carry  the  washing  in  the  ubiquitous 
hods  on  their  backs,  and  though  they  are 
obliged  to  bend  over,  they  can  still  fire  a 
parting  verbal  shot  with  unabated  skill. 

This  may  be  interesting  in  its  way,  but 
there  is  better  yet  to  come,  so  let  the  reader, 
impatient  to  be  off,  obey  the  musical  ring 
of  the  bell,  which,  by  some  blessed  provision, 
hangs  in  the  bow  of  every  steamboat  on  the 
lake,  and,  stepping  aboard,  make  the  trip  of 
the  upper  lake. 

As  the  boat  moves  out,  the  portion  of 
Lago  Maggiore  known  as  the  Lake  of  Lo- 
carno seems  to  be  enclosed  by  the  mountains, 
and  all  egress  shut  off  toward  the  south  by 

62 


The  Lake  of  Locarno 

a  projecting  headland,  the  delta  of  the  tor- 
rent Maggia;  but  further  progress  discloses 
the  rest  of  Lago  Maggiore  lying  serene  on 
the  farther  side,  and  growing  more  blue  with 
the  distance.  The  eastern  shore  lies  cool 
and  shaded  under  the  great  range  of  Gam- 
barogno.  The  stations  of  Magadino,  As- 
cona,  and  Gerra  succeed  each  other  and 
bring  us  in  sight  of  the  two  islands  of  Bris- 
sago,  one  with  the  ruins  of  a  church  and 
the  other  marked  by  a  dwelling.  Then 
comes  Brissago  itself,  the  last  place  of  im- 
portance to  be  reached  before  the  Italian 
frontier  claims  our  attention  with  its  imag- 
inary line.  At  Brissago  the  southern  vege- 
tation becomes  more  pronounced,  shining 
rich  and  glossy  amid  pretty  country-houses, 
while  a  group  of  cypresses  in  sombre  green 
point  skyward  near  the  church.  It  is  said 
that  it  has  been  the  custom  for  many  men 
from  Brissago  to  emigrate  as  cooks  into  the 
wide  world,  and  that  some  of  them  have 
become  proprietors  of  well-known  hotels. 

Cannobio,  at  the  outlet  of  the  great  Val 
Cannobino,  through  which  Domo  d'Ossola 
can  be  reached,  is  another  enterprising  town- 
let  on  the  western  bank.  It  is  at  this  point 
that  the  swift  little  steamboats  of  the  Italian 

63 


The  Italian  Lakes 

customs  service  are  stationed,  which  watch 
the  Swiss  portion  of  Lago  Maggiore  for 
smuggling,  just  as  similar  ones  perform  the 
same  service  against  the  Austrian  portion  of 
Lago  di  Garda.  They  look  to  be  formid- 
able craft,  these  alert  torpedinieri,  and  with 
their  search-lights  command  lake  and  shore 
also  at  night.  The  boat  now  crosses  to  Mac- 
cagno,  and  on  the  way  thither  our  first  view 
is  obtained  of  two  further  islands,  variously 
called  the  Castelli  di  Cannero,  or  Isole 
Vitaliano,  and  now  owned  by  the  Borromean 
family.  Their  ruins  fit  the  tale  which  is  told 
of  them,  namely,  that  at  the  opening  of  the 
fifteenth  century  they  became  the  headquar- 
ters of  five  brigand  brothers,  Mazzarda  by 
name,  who  terrorized  the  whole  lake  dis- 
trict until  the  ducal  Visconti  of  the  day  be- 
sieged and  destroyed  their  robber  castle. 
These  rocky  and  sombre  islands  are  in  strik- 
ing contrast  with  the  suave  loveliness  of  the 
lake  shore  which  forms  their  background. 

After  leaving  Maccagno,  the  view  toward 
the  south  broadens  into  a  grand  perspective 
which  reaches  as  far  as  Stresa,  Isola  Bella, 
and  the  noble  background  of  Monte  Mot- 
terone.  In  the  meantime  the  St.  Gothard 
railroad  line,  which  on  the  eastern  shore 

64 


Bernardino  Luini 

has  steadily  flanked  our  progress  down  the 
lake,  becomes  especially  conspicuous,  and  at 
Luino  steamer  and  train  meet  to  make  con- 
venient connections  for  Lago  Lugano,  by 
way  of  steam-tramway  to  Ponte  Tresa,  and 
for  the  Italian  cities  of  the  plains  or  the 
Swiss  summer  resorts  north  of  the  St.  Goth- 
ard. 

Indeed  Luino  is  a  sort  of  an  international 
crossroads,  and  possesses  an  imposing  rail- 
road station  to  emphasize  the  fact.  The 
tourist  who  does  more  than  pass  through 
the  place  is  repaid,  not  only  by  the  special 
attractions  of  the  water-front,  including  a 
well-shaded  quay,  but  also  by  the  historical 
and  artistic  associations.  The  very  name  of 
Luino  recalls  that  of  the  gentle,  idyllic  fresco 
painter,  Bernardino  Luini,  who  was  born 
here  in  the  latter  part  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury. 

Bernardino  Luini  (1470-1530) 

It  is  a  fact  greatly  regretted  by  Prof. 
Uberti  Giansevero,  in  his  "  Guida  Generate 
Ai  Grandi  Laghi  Subalpini,"  that  no  one  has 
erected  a  memorial  to  the  great  painter  in  his 
native  town,  and  that  writer  even  doubts  Lu- 

65 


The  Italian  Lakes 

ini's  authorship  of  the  few  frescoes  in  Luino, 
generally  ascribed  to  him,  both  in  the  church 
of  St.  Peter's  there  and  on  the  walls  of  the 
Albergo  della  Posta.  Yet  it  is  pleasant  to 
know  of  the  atmosphere  in  which  a  painter 
grows  to  his  art.  Writing  of  Luini  in  con- 
nection with  Luino,  T.  W.  M.  Lund,  in  his 
charming  "  Como  and  Italian  Lake-land," 
states :  "  There  he  was  born,  from  that  little 
town  he  took  his  name,  and  in  that  wide 
scene  of  hill  and  air  and  water  blent  in  such 
perfect  harmonies,  he  formed  his  earliest 
inspiration  and  learnt  the  truest  lessons  of 
his  art." 

In  order  to  find  Luini's  works,  we  must 
travel  to  other  parts  of  Italian  lake-land, 
to  Lugano,  Saronno,  and  Como,  and  farther 
still  to  Milan,  where  the  famous  Ambrosian 
Library  has  a  special  Sala  del  Luini,  and 
the  no  less  famous  Brera  gallery  has  hung 
his  frescoes  on  the  walls  of  its  vestibules  and 
corridor.  Luini  was  a  poet  like  many  others 
of  the  great  Italian  artists,  and  wrote  a  trea- 
tise on  painting.  His  fame  has  grown  with 
time.  Ruskin  has  expressed  admiration  for 
him  in  some  of  his  most  illuminating  pages, 
and  John  Addington  Symonds  has  written 
enthusiastically  and  instructively  of  his  sin- 

66 


AFTER    THE    MARKET    OF    LOCARNO 


Bernardino  Luini 

gular  grace,  simplicity,  sweetness,  and  di- 
rectness. It  should  be  said  that  Luini  is 
no  longer  held  to  have  been  a  pupil  of 
Leonardo  da  Vinci,  though  some  of  his 
works  were  at  one  time  actually  ascribed 
to  the  latter. 

In  1867  a  monument  to  Garibaldi  was 
erected  on  the  lake-front  of  Luino,  to  com- 
memorate his  independent  efforts  against 
Austria,  organized  from  this  point  in  1848, 
and  since  the  shores  of  the  region  of  the 
Italian  lakes  are  conspicuously  dotted  with 
the  statues  of  this  great  forefighter  in  the 
Italian  struggle  for  independence  and  unity, 
and  many  localities  resound  with  his  name, 
the  reader  will  find  it  useful  to  refresh  the 
memory  with  some  of  the  salient  facts  in 
Garibaldi's  career.  With  this  in  view,  the 
author  has  furnished  a  brief  sketch  of  Gari- 
baldi in  the  next  chapter.  This  sketch  makes 
no  claim  to  special  critical  research,  but 
simply  relates  the  story  of  his  life  as  com- 
monly recorded. 

After  leaving  Luino  the  steamboat  passes 
the  Isole  Cannero,  already  described,  stops 
at  Cannero  itself,  crowned  with  vineyards 
and  orchards,  passes  Oggebbio,  Ghiffa,  and 
Porto  Valtravaglia,  and  so  reaches  Laveno, 


The  Italian  Lakes 

a  convenient  point  from  which  to  take  the 
steamboat  for  the  tour  of  lower  Lago  Mag- 
giore. 

In  curious  opposition  to  the  steamboats,  we 
pass  primitive  stone  barges  propelled  by 
oars  with  auxiliary  sails.  One  such  is  moored 
to  the  shore,  taking  on  its  load.  Presently 
this  task  is  done,  and  we  see  the  oarsmen  in 
their  places  for  the  start  down  the  lake.  So 
long  and  heavy  are  the  oars  that  their  full 
sweep  cannot  well  be  used;  hence  the  oars- 
men are  obliged  to  stand,  then  take  a  few  steps 
in  the  boat  as  they  catch  the  water,  and  so, 
with  a  final  jerk,  they  succeed  in  putting 
some  motion  into  the  clumsy  barge.  Wind 
permitting,  the  square  sails  are  hoisted  to 
aid  the  oars.  The  progress  is  not  rapid,  and 
yet  "  slow  but  sure "  will  reach  Arona  in 
time. 

Again,  as  the  steamboat  crosses  over  to 
Laveno  from  west  to  east,  the  splendour  of 
Monte  Rosa  and  the  Simplon  Mountains 
bursts  into  view,  drawing  the  eye  from  the 
immediate  foreground  and  its  intense,  ter- 
raced cultivation,  its  oleanders,  myrtle-trees, 
cypresses,  and  palms,  off  and  up  to  the  im- 
perishable purity  of  the  snow  not  made  with 
hands. 

68 


Bernardino  Luini 

Here  the  formal  Latin  sense  of  proportion 
has  produced  architectural  gardens  and  roads 
of  masonry;  there  the  mountains,  in  a  very 
exuberance  of  freedom,  proclaim  an  untram- 
melled arrangement  of  forest,  slope,  thicket, 
and  flower,  based  on  the  needs  and  the  de- 
sires of  each. 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE  THREE  LIBERATORS:  GARIBALDI,  MAZZINI, 
AND  CAVOUR 

THE  three  patriots  who  contributed  by 
their  labours  more  than  any  other  Italians 
toward  the  independence  and  unification  of 
Italy  were  all  associated,  during  a  portion 
of  their  lives  at  least,  with  the  region  of  the 
Italian  lakes.  References  to  them  crop  up 
here  and  there,  as  the  traveller  makes  his 
delightful  rounds,  and  local  reminiscences 
of  them  serve  to  explain  modern  Italy  in 
the  making,  undergoing  its  national  risorgi- 
mento. 

On  the  shores  of  Lakes  Maggiore,  Como, 
and  Garda  the  name  of  Garibaldi  awakens 
echoes  both  of  victory  and  defeat.  From 
1848  to  1866  Lugano  was  often  the  head- 
quarters of  Mazzini,  whence  he  issued  his 
ringing  appeals  in  the  struggle  for  freedom. 
At  Stresa,  on  Lake  Maggiore,  Cavour  is 
reported  to  have  thought  out  his  wonderful 

70 


Giuseppe  Garibaldi 

plans  of  political  reorganization,  and  in  the 
meantime,  being  greatly  interested  in  the 
economic  revival  of  his  native  country, 
helped  to  place  the  first  steamboat  on  the 
lake.  Thus  the  three  men  who  have  not 
inaptly  been  called  respectively  the  knight 
errant,  the  prophet,  and  the  organizer  of 
Italian  unity,  have  spread  the  story  of  their 
noble  endeavour  over  the  region  to  which 
this  book  is  devoted,  and  brief  sketches  of 
their  careers  will  be  found  useful.  No  at- 
tempt is  here  made  to  supply  the  reader  with 
critical  biographies  of  an  intimate  or  strictly 
analytical  nature,  but  the  generally  accepted 
facts  have  been  placed  in  narrative  form  to 
speak  for  themselves. 

Giuseppe  Garibaldi    (l 807-82) 

A  list  of  the  mere  incidents  in  Garibaldi's 
life  presents  so  adventurous  and  kaleido- 
scopic a  picture  that  it  is  hardly  necessary 
to  emphasize  the  salient  points  in  order  to 
attract  attention  to  his  career.  Born  in  Nice, 
he  made  several  voyages  in  his  youth  as  a 
sailor.  In  1833  and  1834  he  took  part  in 
the  movement  of  "  Young  Italy,"  organized 
by  Mazzini  to  liberate  and  unite  Italy. 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Driven  into  exile  for  taking  part  in  an  at- 
tempt to  seize  Genoa,  he  made  his  way  to 
South  America  and  took  part  in  revolu- 
tionary movements  there.  His  activity  as  a 
guerilla  warrior  and  privateer  in  that  part 
of  the  world  earned  him  the  title  of  "  the 
hero  of  Montevideo."  The  outbreak  of  the 
war  between  Austria  and  Sardinia  in  1848 
called  him  back  to  Italy,  where  he  fought 
in  Lombardy  against  the  Austrians.  It  was 
at  this  time  that  he  and  his  volunteers  per- 
formed some  notable  feats  against  the  Aus- 
trians along  the  Swiss  frontier,  at  Luino, 
and  elsewhere.  Then  he  took  part  in  the 
defence  of  Rome  against  the  French. 

But  the  Italians  lost  the  battle  of  Cus- 
tozza,  the  Lombardo-Venetian  lands  were 
subjected  anew  to  Austria,  and  the  defence 
of  Rome  finally  failed.  Then  Garibaldi 
made  his  escape  to  San  Marino,  thence  to 
Chiavari  in  Liguria,  to  Tunis,  and  finally 
to  the  island  of  Maddalena,  near  which  lies 
the  islet  of  Caprera,  where  he  later  spent  so 
many  years  of  his  life.  He  went  to  the 
United  States  and  worked  for  awhile  on 
Staten  Island,  New  York,  as  a  candle-maker. 
Later  he  became  ship  captain  and  prospered 
there  in  his  business.  On  his  return  to  Italy, 

72 


Giuseppe  Garibaldi 

in  1854,  h£  purchased  the  northern  part  of 
Caprera  and  made  it  his  home,  until  the 
outbreak  of  the  war  of  France  and  Sardinia 
against  Austria,  in  1859,  brought  him  forth 
again  from  his  retirement.  During  that  year 
and  the  next  he  saw  much  service  against 
Austria.  He  organized  his  volunteers  under 
the  name  of  the  "  cacciatori  delle  Alpi" 
crossed  the  Ticino  eleven  days  before  the 
French,  and  fought  through  the  whole  of  the 
Lombard  campaign,  which  was  signalized  by 
the  victory  of  the  French  and  Italians  at 
Magenta  and  San  Martino  (Solferino).  He 
rendered  especially  valuable  service  at  Va- 
rese  and  Como. 

After  the  peace  preliminaries  of  Villa- 
franca,  against  the  terms  of  which  he  pro- 
tested strongly,  Garibaldi  organized  the 
"cacciatori  degli  Apennini"  in  order  to 
liberate  Rome;  but  not  receiving  permission 
from  Victor  Emmanuel  for  this  enterprise, 
he  turned  his  attention  to  Sicily,  at  that  time 
forming  with  Naples  the  .kingdom  of  the 
Two  Sicilies.  He  embarked  upon  an  expe- 
dition which  proved  to  be  the  most  remark- 
able as  well  as  the  most  fruitful  of  his  many 
bold  ventures.  In  May  of  1860,  with  one 
thousand  volunteers,  he  landed  at  Marsala  in 

73 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Sicily,  marched  to  Palermo,  and  thereafter, 
by  brilliant  and  skillful  generalship,  aided 
by  a  constantly  swelling  number  of  recruits 
to  his  standard,  broke  the  power  of  the  Nea- 
politan king  both  on  the  island  and  main- 
land, and  entered  Naples  in  triumph,  where 
he  was  proclaimed  dictator  of  the  Two  Sici- 
lies. Victor  Emmanuel  thereupon  invaded 
Neapolitan  territory  from  the  north  and 
joined  Garibaldi.  As  soon  as  the  Two  Sici- 
lies had  been  united  to  the  Italian  kingdom 
under  Victor  Emmanuel,  Garibaldi  once 
more  retired  to  Caprera.  He  made  two 
further  unsuccessful  attempts  upon  Rome, 
in  1862  and  1867.  In  the  first  he  was  de- 
feated and  wounded  at  Aspromonte;  in  the 
second  he  was  made  prisoner  at  Mentana. 
After  each  attempt  he  was  liberated  and 
then  returned  to  Caprera. 

When  the  Austro-Prussian  war  broke  out 
in  1866,  with  the  participation  of  Italy  on 
the  side  of  Prussia,  Garibaldi  and  his  volun- 
teers advanced  into  the  Austrian  Trentino, 
where  they  gained  the  only  victories  on  the 
Italian  side  in  this  campaign.  After  the 
defeat  of  Austria  by  Prussia,  Venice  was 
ceded  to  Italy  at  the  request  of  Prussia,  at 
the  Peace  of  Prague.  In  the  meantime  Gari- 

74 


Giuseppe  Garibaldi 

baldi,  in  1864,  had  paid  a  visit  to  England, 
where  he  was  received  with  the  greatest  en- 
thusiasm as  a  popular  hero.  Garibaldi  also 
participated  in  the  Franco-Prussian  War,  on 
the  side  of  the  French,  confining  his  move- 
ments to  Dijon  and  Autun.  His  volunteers 
even  gained  a  slight  victory  over  the  Ger- 
mans by  beating  off  a  body  of  Prussian  Pom- 
eranians near  Dijon.  He  returned  once  more 
to  Caprera  after  this  enterprise,  and  in  1875 
was  elected  member  of  the  Italian  Chamber 
of  Deputies. 

The  admiration  in  which  he  is  held  by  his 
fellow  countrymen  is  sufficiently  evidenced 
by  the  multitude  of  statues  which  they  have 
raised  to  him  in  almost  every  city  and  town 
from  end  to  end  of  the  beautiful  peninsula. 
Through  the  generosity  of  English  friends 
he  became  proprietor  of  the  whole  island  of 
Caprera. 

Ever  constant  to  the  ideal  of  his  youth, 
namely,  the  unity  of  the  Italian-speaking 
race,  he  pursued  his  purpose  with  whole- 
souled  devotion,  and  by  reason  of  the  pecul- 
iar picturesqueness  of  his  revolutionary  meth- 
ods he  looms  up  as  the  central  popular  figure 
in  the  struggle  for  Italian  independence. 


75 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Giuseppe  Mazzini   (l8o^ 

The  man  who  figured  preeminently  as  the 
agitator  in  the  struggle  for  Italian  independ- 
ence was  born  in  Genoa,  was  well  educated 
and  chose  the  profession  of  law.  He  early 
became  interested  in  various  projects  for 
liberating  the  whole  peninsula  and  uniting 
it  under  one  government,  and  with  this  pur- 
pose in  view  organized  the  "  Young  Italy  " 
movement,  in  which  Garibaldi  also  played  a 
temporary  part.  When  Charles  Albert  came 
to  the  throne  of  Sardinia,  Mazzini  addressed 
a  notable  appeal  to  him  to  place  himself  at 
the  head  of  a  national  movement.  A  decree 
of  banishment  was  thereupon  issued  against 
him,  and  he  went  into  hiding  in  Marseilles, 
whence  he  continued  to  issue  stirring  writings 
which  affected  the  whole  of  Europe.  In 
1834  he  organized  an  unsuccessful  invasion 
of  Savoy.  During  the  next  two  years  he 
made  his  residence  in  Switzerland,  and  it  was 
in  Bern  that  he  drew  up  his  famous  "  Pact 
of  Fraternity."  But  banished  even  from 
Switzerland,  he  went  to  live  in  London,  and 
then  in  1848  returned  to  Italy  to  take  part 
in  the  war  between  Austria  and  Sardinia. 
He  was  associated  with  Garibaldi  in  the 

76 


Count  Camilla  Benso  di  Cavour 

attempt  to  keep  the  war  alive  along  the 
shores  of  the  Italian  lakes  and  in  the  valleys 
of  the  Alps  after  Milan  had  capitulated. 
He  was  also  prominent  in  the  unsuccessful 
attempt  of  1849  to  maintain  a  republic  in 
Rome. 

Returning  to  London,  Mazzini  was  occu- 
pied during  the  next  few  years  in  planning 
various  risings  in  Italy.  Like  Garibaldi, 
he  protested  strenuously  against  the  cession 
of  Savoy  and  Nice  to  France,  agreed  to  at 
the  peace  preliminaries  of  Villafranca  in 
1859.  He  supported  Garibaldi  in  his  expe- 
dition to  Sicily.  During  his  later  years  he 
lived  for  awhile  in  Switzerland,  especially  at 
Lugano,  then  in  Pisa,  and  finally  he  returned 
to  Genoa,  his  native  city,  where  his  great 
services  in  the  struggle  for  Italian  independ- 
ence made  him  greatly  respected  and  be- 
loved by  all,  and  at  his  death  he  was  deeply 
mourned  "by  a  grateful  nation,  which  his 
incessant  and  persistent  devotion  had  largely 
helped  to  create. 

Count  Camilla  Benso  di  Cavour  (l8lO-6l) 

The  diplomat  of  the  risorgtmento  was  born 
in  Turin  of  aristocratic  ancestry  and  in  an 

77 


The  Italian  Lakes 

atmosphere  of  wealth  and  refinement.  At  the 
age  of  ten  he  was  sent  to  a  military  academy, 
and  in  the  course  of  time  his  military  career 
began  at  Genoa.  He  is  reported  to  have  been 
genuinely  disturbed  at  an  early  age  about  the 
disorganized  condition  of  the  nation,  and  to 
have  spoken  unguardedly  about  affairs  at 
court.  In  consequence  of  his  utterances  he 
found  himself  constrained  to  resign  from 
the  army,  and  thereafter  quietly  sought  for 
the  means  by  which  Italy  could  be  united 
and  made  free.  For  sixteen  years  he  held 
aloof  from  public  affairs,  watching  in  private 
life  for  the  right  way  to  manifest  itself,  and 
feeling  himself  out  of  sympathy  both  with 
the  conservatives  and  the  conspirators.  In 
the  meantime  he  occupied  himself  with  agri- 
culture and  economic  improvements,  and 
with  studying  foreign  countries,  especially 
France  and  England.  Of  the  latter  he  al- 
ways remained  a  genuine  admirer. 

It  was  not  until  1848  that  Cavour  came 
to  the  front  and  publicly  took  his  position 
as  a  patriot  who  was  ready  and  capable  to 
help  Italy  in  her  hour  of  rejuvenation.  He 
united  with  others  in  instituting  a  paper  in 
Turin  called  Risorgimento,  and  in  the  Sar- 
dinian chamber  took  the  position  of  middle 

78 


Count  Camilla  Benso  di  C ay  our 

ground,  which  seemed  to  him  more  likely  to 
lead  to  definite  results,  but  this  made  him 
popular  with  neither  side  and  required  great 
moral  courage  on  his  part.  In  the  course 
of  time,  the  two  extremes  in  public  opinion 
tended  to  discredit  themselves,  and  Cavour 
was  able  to  see  the  fruits  of  his  practical 
diplomacy  in  actual  gains  of  territory  and 
in  a  centralized  government.  He  was  pre- 
mier of  Sardinia  from  1852  to  1861,  and  is 
credited  with  having  arranged  with  Napo- 
leon III.  the  war  of  1859. 

During  his  career,  he  saw  Italy  rise  from 
a  dismembered  and  disjointed  conglomera- 
tion of  petty  states,  filled  with  contradictory 
opinions,  to  a  condition  wherein,  with  the 
exception  of  Venice  and  the  Papal  States, 
the  whole  peninsula  was  united  under  a  cen- 
tral executive  power  and  was  likewise  in 
possession  of  representative  government.  To 
the  final  complete  consolidation  of  Italy  in 
later  years  under  one  sovereign,  the  pains- 
taking, persevering  work  of  Cavour  and  his 
characteristic  qualities  of  diplomacy  seem  to 
have  been  virtually  indispensable,  though  he 
did  not  live  to  see  Rome  made  the  capital 
of  his  native  land. 


79 


CHAPTER   VIII 

MONTE  MOTTERONE 

LEST  any  soothing  languor  or  lethargy  of 
the  Gulf  of  Pallanza  overtake  the  visitor 
and  mar  the  keenness  of  his  enjoyment,  it 
may  be  well  for  him  to  do  his  climbing  into 
the  heights  pretty  promptly  upon  arrival,  and 
to  attack  the  noble  points  of  view  with  ready 
energy  and  buoyancy.  Monte  Motterone  and 
Sasso  del  Ferro  are  the  giant  sign  and  finger 
posts  of  lower  Lago  Maggiore,  pointing  from 
their  exalted  tops  in  every  direction  to  the 
marvels  of  this  region,  —  northward  to  the 
snow  peaks,  southward  to  the  plains  of  Pied- 
mont and  Lombardy,  and  close  at  hand  to 
all  the  details  and  the  exquisite  charms  of  the 
subalpine  world,  clustered  profusely  at  the 
very  feet  of  these  mountains. 

For  the  present  let  Monte  Motterone,  also 
written  Mottarone,  suffice. 

It  is  early  in  June.  Along  the  lake-front 
of  Baveno  and  Stresa  the  gardens  are  in  their 

80 


a 
u 

D 

O1 
V2 
H 
si 
a 

H 
U 


Monte  Motterone 

full  splendour  and  richness.  Roses  are  there 
and  camellias;  the  myrtle  and  the  pome- 
granate leaves  reflect  the  light.  As  we  mount 
the  path  leads  through  great  chestnut  groves 
and  vineyards,  by  rustic  villages  and  stone 
barns  covered  with  thatched  roofs,  up  into 
the  open  fields,  and  finally  upon  the  undu- 
lating pastures  that  reach  to  the  summit  and 
make  of  this  whole  mountain  massif,  lying 
between  Lakes  Maggiore  and  Orta,  a  vast 
cattle  range  and  dairying  district.  Up  there 
are  real  alps,  serene,  carpeted  with  the  green- 
est grass  and  the  sweetest  flowers  and  swept 
by  the  balmiest  of  airs. 

There  are  several  routes  by  which  the  top 
may  be  reached.  One  may  start  from  Baveno 
and  pass  by  Romanico,  Campino,  Someraro, 
Levo,  and  the  Alpe  del  Giardino  to  the  hotel 
near  the  summit;  while  another  favourite 
path  goes  from  Stresa  and  joins  the  former 
at  Someraro. 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that,  as  you  pass  through 
Campino,  you  may  have  sight  of  one  of  the 
barns  there,  built  of  mountain  rubble  and 
mortar,  thatched  with  straw,  and  curiously 
primitive  from  every  standpoint.  Perhaps 
the  farmer  may  just  be  descending  by  a  lad- 
der, carrying  a  three-pronged  wooden  pitch- 
Si 


The  Italian  Lakes 

fork,  while  his  young  wife  stands  for  a 
moment  holding  her  baby  in  arms. 

At  another  village  a  country  festival  may 
have  beflagged  the  principal  inn,  called  the 
country  folk  to  put  on  their  Sunday  best, 
and  is  making  them  revolve  on  the  terrace 
in  the  dance  to  the  tune  of  a  brass  band. 
Perhaps  another  day  you  may  surprise  a  mili- 
tary society  out  for  an  excursion  and  halting 
in  some  village  square  amid  a  concourse  of 
boys  and  girls. 

A  transition  full  of  delightful  surprises 
marks  the  ascent  of  Monte  Motterone.  For 
awhile  the  nightingales  sing  in  the  chestnut- 
trees  and  the  cuckoo  calls,  then  come  the 
larks,  soaring  and  wheeling  skyward  above 
the  open  mountain  meadows.  The  path  has 
barely  emerged  from  the  shrubs  of  flower- 
ing rhododendron  in  the  lakeside  gardens, 
when  our  sweet  friend,  the  wild  rhododen- 
dron, or  alpine  rose,  is  detected  in  secluded 
spots  fringing  rugged  cliffs.  The  daffodils 
cultivated  along  the  lake  terraces  give  place 
to  the  wild  narcissus  flung  broadcast  on  the 
uplands,  the  stately  tulip  to  the  modest  bell 
gentian.  The  beauties  of  lake  and  shore  at 
first  are  seen  to  come  and  go  through  the  for- 
est branches,  then  are  temporarily  eclipsed 

82 


Monte  Motterone 

as  we  mount,  to  reappear  again  as  distant 
details  when  the  summit  is  reached.  To 
sum  up,  Monte  Motterone  is  no  ordinary 
climb,  like  those  on  the  northern  side  of  the 
Alps,  with  brambles  and  pines  below  and 
solitudes  above,  but  belongs  to  the  southern 
slope,  and  is  distinctively  of  the  Italian  pe- 
ninsula. 

The  view  is  justly  famous.  Although  the 
summit  is  not  quite  five  thousand  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea,  yet  from  up  there  the 
assembly  of  the  Alps  seems  nearly  complete, 
and  the  absent  ones  can  almost  be  supplied 
from  memory.  Starting  with  the  Col  di  Tenda 
and  Monte  Viso  in  the  far  west,  on  the  bor- 
ders of  France,  and  extending  eastward  as 
far  as  the  Ortler  and  Adamello  groups  in 
the  Austrian  Crown  Land  Tyrol,  the  peaks 
stand  in  a  semicircle  of  nearly  two  hundred 
miles,  solemn  and  radiant,  clad  in  imperish- 
able purity,  and  acting  as  guardians,  pro- 
tectors, and  benefactors  of  the  sunny  southern 
lake  land  at  their  feet.  Monte  Rosa,  barely 
a  dozen  miles  away,  dominates  the  northern 
horizon,  towering  above  them  all,  queen  and 
centre  of  a  great  court  of  attendants.  In 
fact,  her  sway  is  as  undisputed  in  this  region 


The  Italian  Lakes 

as  is  that  of  Mont  Blanc  over  the  valley  of 
Chamonix. 

Among  the  better  known  peaks  that  glisten 
on  the  great  white  line  are  the  Cima  di  Jazzi, 
Mischabel,  Monte  Leone,  Jungfrau,  and 
Fiescherhorner;  the  mountains  of  the  Upper 
Rhine  valley  and  the  Engadine  stand  farther 
back,  while  closer  at  hand  is  seen  Monte 
Generoso,  acting  as  a  friendly  rival  with 
Monte  Motterone  and  Sasso  del  Ferro  in 
the  delightful  profession  of  showing  off  the 
treasures  of  the  alpine  and  subalpine  world. 

Down  in  the  plain  the  sheen  of  silver  wind- 
ings denotes  the  rivers  Ticino  and  Sesia,  and 
in  fair  weather  Milan  is  visible  with  its  ca- 
thedral and  arch  of  triumph,  as  well  as 
Monza  and  Varese,  Novara,  and  Vercelli, 
while  the  faint  violet  tracings  of  the  Apen- 
nines close  the  southern  view.  In  fairest 
weather,  it  is  said,  even  Turin  can  be  dis- 
covered amid  the  lowland  haze  off  to  the 
west.  Seven  lakes  can  be  seen,  large  and 
small:  Maggiore,  Orta,  Mergozzo,  Varese, 
Biandronno,  Monate,  and  Comabbio,  The 
Borromean  Islands  seem  to  be  swimming  on 
Lake  Maggiore  like  great  pond-lilies  of 
special  pattern  and  imported  from  tropical 
climes,  and  the  quaint  isle  of  San  Giulio 

84 


O1 


Monte  Motterone 

on  Lake  Orta  looks  as  though  it  had  been 
dropped  from  some  mediaeval  sky. 

The  eye  rests  longest  on  our  good  friends, 
Baveno,  Pallanza,  and  Intra,  and  strays 
northward  to  Luino,  to  the  ruins  on  the 
islands  of  Cannero,  to  Maccagno,  and  the 
curve  of  the  shore  beyond.  Over  at  Laveno 
the  train  is  starting  for  Varese,  to  run 
through  a  country  thickly  strewn  with  habi- 
tations; tourist-laden  steamboats  are  touch- 
ing here  and  there  at  their  landing-places, 
churning  the  blue  water  into  white,  sending 
up  streamers  of  smoke,  and  trailing  diverging 
lines  in  their  wake.  Picturesque  St.  Cath- 
erine and  the  crenelated  castle  of  Angera 
attract  attention.  We  find  ourselves  looking 
down  from  the  atmosphere  of  the  Alps  into 
a  populous  plain,  dotted  not  only  with  gar- 
dens and  villas  but  also  with  factories,  store- 
houses, and  other  evidences  of  industrial  and 
commercial  Italy,  —  showing  that  even  in 
this  lake  land  of  surpassing  beauty  work  has 
to  be  done  and  all  is  not  play  all  the  time. 

Should  the  weather  prove  variable  on 
Monte  Motterone,  still  the  clouds  will  bring 
beauties  and  compensations  of  their  own. 
Perhaps  they  will  drift  superbly  in  great 
rolling  masses  about  Monte  Rosa,  or  rise 


The  Italian  Lakes 

like  smoke  from  the  quarried  precipices  of 
Montorfano.  Possibly  they  may  close  in 
altogether  on  us,  for  awhile  at  least,  and 
spread  a  gentle  stillness  over  the  pastures  of 
Monte  Motterone.  At  such  times  it  is  well 
to  look  for  sudden  openings  of  startling 
beauty,  pictures  of  a  gigantic  camera  ob- 
scura.  A  rift  in  the  clouds  may  reveal  mo- 
mentarily one  of  the  Borromean  Islands  far 
below,  the  palace  on  Isola  Bella,  or  the  cam- 
panile on  Isola  dei  Pescatori,  illuminated 
by  a  strong  ray  of  yellow  light  and  sur- 
rounded by  water  of  vivid  azure;  or  a  moun- 
tainside may  gleam  for  an  instant  in  bright 
vernal  green.  Before  the  clouds  blot  out  the 
scene  again,  rowboats  may  appear  on  the 
lake  like  tiny  insects  threading  their  way 
across,  a  patch  of  water  may  glisten  silver 
sweet,  or  a  strip  of  the  gay  lakeside  may 
show  itself,  bathed  in  an  intense  blue-black 
atmosphere.  These  contrasting  glimpses, 
from  an  alpine  world  into  the  lap  of  lux- 
ury and  the  pride  of  civilization,  constitute 
a  unique  charm  of  the  good  mountain. 

Both  from  a  geological  and  botanical  as- 
pect, Monte  Motterone  has  its  special  merits. 
It  stood  for  ages  like  a  great  granite  ram- 
part against  the  glaciers  advancing  down  the 

86 


Monte  Motterone 

valleys  where  the  Toce  and  Ticino  Rivers 
now  run.  Its  lower  flanks  have  been  sprin- 
kled with  erratic  blocks  brought  down  from 
the  distant  heights  upon  the  backs  of  these 
glaciers.  The  blocks  are  especially  notice- 
able in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  village  of 
Gignese. 

To-day  Monte  Motterone  forms  a  veri- 
table park  of  vast  pastures,  kept  as  fresh  as 
lawns  by  an  effective  system  of  irrigation. 
Little  channels  cross  the  slopes  in  long 
trenches  slightly  off  the  line  of  the  hori- 
zontal, bringing  the  water  of  the  mountain 
brooks  to  freshen  the  grazing  lands.  The 
result  is  that  to  match  such  a  succession  of 
green  alps,  it  would  be  necessary  to  travel 
to  the  famous  Seiser  Alp  above  the  Groden 
Valley  in  Tyrol,  or  to  the  Pinzgauer  Prom- 
enade on  the  borders  of  Salzburg,  or  even 
to  the  uplands  of  the  Sette  Comuni,  south 
of  the  Valsugana.  There  are  about  a  hun- 
dred of  these  alps  on  Monte  Motterone, 
feeding  some  two  thousand  cows  and  many 
sheep.  Ten  of  the  alps,  with  their  rude  huts 
and  groups  of  trees,  belong  to  the  family 
of  the  Counts  of  Borromeo.  No  greater  dif- 
ference in  possession  can  be  imagined  than 
exists  between  these  high-placed  properties 


The  Italian  Lakes 

and  the  better  known  Borromean  Islands 
below.  Their  one  bond  of  sympathy  seems 
to  lie  in  their  island  nature,  the  former 
being  veritable  oases  upon  the  rolling  green, 
the  latter  bright  spots  upon  the  great  blue 
basin  of  the  lake.  The  family  also  possesses 
a  little  villa  at  the  village  of  Levo  which  is 
passed  on  the  way  up  from  Baveno  or  Stresa. 
The  summit  of  Monte  Motterone  has  been 
visited  by  a  number  of  royalties,  notably  in 
1885  by  the  then  Queen  Margherita  of  Italy, 
well  known  as  a  genial  and  happy  enthusiast 
in  alpine  matters.  In  all  respects  the  visit 
is  to  be  urged  upon  those  who  can  make 
time  for  it  on  their  Italian  lakes  journey.  In 
a  few  moments  the  wealth  of  a  great  part  of 
this  region  in  variety,  freshness,  colour,  and 
form  can  be  quickly  grasped  and  the  details 
studied  for  a  nearer  acquaintance.  To  the 
Italians  of  the  near-by  cities  Monte  Mot- 
terone is  a  welcome  refuge  in  the  hour  of 
persistent  heat.  All  summer  long  there  is 
the  tinkling  of  cow-bells  from  the  irrigated 
slopes,  the  birds  soar,  and  the  bees  buzz  about 
their  business.  In  their  seasons  the  flowers 
come,  nod  to  the  breezes,  and  then  go,  and 
the  morning  mist  floats  off  into  thin  streamers 
to  caress  the  slopes  with  kindly  ringers. 

88 


CHAPTER   IX 

RIVIERA  AND  LAGO  D'ORTA 

AMONG  the  many  merits  of  the  Simplon 
tunnel  is  also  this,  that  it  is  reviving  the  in- 
terest of  the  travelling  public  in  an  idyllic 
bit  of  lake  country,  intensely  Italian  in  char- 
acter, —  the  Riviera  and  Lago  d'Orta.  The 
railroad  from  Domo  d'Ossola,  going  south- 
ward to  Novara,  runs  along  the  eastern  shore 
of  Lake  Orta  and  high  above  this  unique 
mountain  lake,  which  lies  pensive  sweet  be- 
low in  a  deep  basin  whose  sides  are  formed 
by  steep  cliffs  and  abrupt  slopes,  rising  in  an 
amphitheatre  of  mutual  admiration,  and  cul- 
minating in  great  swelling  mountain  forms 
clad  with  forests.  By  virtue  of  the  attraction 
of  the  Simplon  tunnel  it  may  happen  that  the 
traveller  who  suddenly  catches  a  glimpse  of 
this  unique  fairy  lake  may  have  landed  but 
the  day  before  in  the  seaport  of  Genoa  from 
a  transatlantic  voyage,  or  coming  from  the 

89 


The  Italian  Lakes 

north  may  have  spent  the  preceding  morning 
amid  the  glaciers  of  Switzerland. 

East  and  west,  delightful  passes  also  give 
access  to  Lago  d'Orta,  one  from  Lago  Mag- 
giore  over  Monte  Motterone,  and  another 
from  Varallo  in  the  Val  Sesia  over  the  Colle 
di  Colma.  There  are  also  carriage  roads 
from  Arena  by  way  of  Gozzano,  or  from 
Gravellona  to  Omegna,  and  mule  paths  con- 
nect the  nestling  villages  among  the  forests 
of  chestnut-trees. 

Little  Lago  d'Orta,  thus  set  among  the 
heights,  is  in  striking  contrast  to  Lago  Mag- 
giore,  with  its  grand  expanses  and  magnifi- 
cent distances. 

Sir  John  Lubbock,  in  "  The  Scenery  of 
Switzerland,"  points  out  that  Lago  d'Orta, 
contrary  to  the  other  Italian  lakes,  has  its 
outflow  to  the  north,  not  to  the  south,  the 
southern  end  being  blocked  by  a  moraine, 
i.  e.  an  accumulation  of  mountain  refuse, 
brought  down  by  a  glacier  which  has  long 
since  disappeared.  The  lake  waters  issue  at 
Omegna  in  a  little  stream  called  the  Nigo- 
glia,  this  empties  into  the  Strona,  the  latter 
into  the  Toce,  and  finally  the  united  waters 
fall  together  into  Lago  Maggiore,  —  and 
all  this  within  a  finger's  breadth  on  the  map. 

90 


Rimer  a  and  Lago  d'Orta 

The  lake  of  Orta  is  some  nine  miles  long, 
and  the  prevalent  breezes  are  from  southeast 
or  northeast  in  the  morning,  and  from  the 
west  in  the  evening.  It  is  reputed  to  be  very 
well  stocked  with  fish. 

Since  the  railroad,  running  north  and 
south,  will  surely  whistle,  rumble,  and  speak 
for  itself,  let  our  description  of  an  approach 
to  the  lake  be  of  that  silent  upland  path  over 
Monte  Motterone.  In  due  order  the  Colle 
di  Colma  will  also  be  considered. 

Let  us  suppose  that  the  traveller  has 
walked  up  the  mountain  from  Baveno  or 
Stresa  on  Lago  Maggiore,  has  rested  at  the 
hotel  on  Monte  Motterone,  and  is  now  pre- 
pared to  descend  the  western  slope  of  this 
famous  mountain  to  Lago  d'Orta.  If  the 
start  from  the  top  be  made  in  the  morning, 
the  alpine  pastures  of  the  summit,  stretching 
in  great  billows  to  all  points  of  the  compass, 
will  be  vocal  with  jubilant  larks;  and,  if  it 
is  June,  the  grass  will  be  joyously  perfumed 
with  many  thousand  flowers  of  the  poetical 
narcissus.  Moreover,  if  the  day  be  clear, 
Monte  Rosa  will  loom  up  from  among  the 
Alps  with  tremendous  power  and  immanence. 
A  cart  track  with  an  easy  grade  marks  the 
way  down  to  the  rim  of  the  timber  line  of 


The  Italian  Lakes 

chestnut-trees,  which  is  the  limit  to  which 
the  villages  in  this  region  find  it  profitable 
to  grow.  As  high  as  this  line  they  still  clus- 
ter in  the  hollows  or  perch  on  projections. 
Perhaps  you,  too,  may  meet  the  ox-cart  with 
the  patient  beasts  that  carries  provisions  to 
the  hotel. 

The  descent  into  the  valley,  where  the  town 
of  Orta  lies  so  snug  and  secure  on  the  pleas- 
ant lake-shore,  means  added  human  interest 
with  every  foot  of  decreasing  altitude.  It 
is  a  change  from  the  sweetly  solitary  grass- 
lands above  to  the  cultivated  Italian  coun- 
tryside below  with  its  terraced  vineyards,  its 
patches  of  velvet  on  the  slope,  its  crowded 
white  hamlets,  and  semitropical  villa  gar- 
dens. More  especially  does  the  descent  af- 
ford superb  views  of  the  lake  and  its  lofty 
granite  cliffs. 

Passing  Armeno  and  Miasino,  then  under 
the  railroad  bridge,  leaving  to  one  side  the 
Villa  Crespi,  —  in  Moorish  style  with  a  tall 
tower  and  gilded  dome,  —  we  curve  down  to 
the  water's  edge  by  a  road  lined  with  delight- 
ful villas,  perched  on  rocky  ground  and  bril- 
liant with  trailing  honeysuckle  and  rock 
plants  of  strange  forms  and  colours.  The 
villa  of  Marquis  Natta  lies  at  the  southern 

92 


Riviera  and  Lago  dOrta 

entrance  of  the  town  proper,  then  suddenly 
we  find  ourselves  within  Orta  itself.  At  the 
time  of  the  author's  visit  three  signs  met  the 
traveller  at  the  entrance,  one  prohibiting  beg- 
ging, another  the  trotting  or  galloping  of 
horses,  and  a  third  the  riding  of  bicycles 
"  and  such  like  "  (e  simili).  What  Orta  has 
to  say  of  automobiles  to-day  is  not  yet  known 
to  the  author.  There  is  a  miniature  square 
opening  upon  the  lake,  some  exceedingly 
narrow  streets  paved  with  stone  slabs,  Ital- 
ian fashion,  a  wonder  island  out  there  upon 
the  lake,  and  a  wooded  hill  at  the  back  laid 
out  as  a  park.  That  is  about  all  there  is  to 
Orta,  but  it  is  enough  to  make  of  it  a  tiny 
epitome  of  Italian  history,  art,  and  scenery, 
which  will  repay  more  than  a  passing  glance 
from  the  railroad  train. 

The  square  is  also  the  market-place.  It 
is  picturesquely  shaded  by  trees  and  has  some 
diminutive  porticoes.  At  one  side  stands  an 
interesting  municipio,  or  town  hall,  raised 
on  columns  like  stilts.  If  the  day  be  Wednes- 
day, the  square  will  be  alive  with  the  weekly 
fair.  There  is  the  loud  clamour  of  bargain- 
ing in  the  neighbouring  inns  and  under  the 
canvas  covers  of  the  stalls.  In  fact,  canvas 
is  much  in  evidence,  for  in  this  country  every 

93 


The  Italian  Lakes 

rustic  conveyance  on  land  and  water,  from 
donkey-cart  to  rowboat,  goes  under  canvas, 
for  the  sake  both  of  sun  and  rain.  Under 
the  arches  of  the  municipio  a  mountebank 
is  giving  an  entertainment  and  earning  fran- 
tic applause  from  the  country  people,  who 
are  quick  to  appreciate  his  every  look  and 
gesture.  Many  of  these  good  people  have 
come  long  distances,  and  betray  in  their 
clothes  a  tendency  toward  many  varieties  of 
costume. 

Later  on,  when  the  traveller  has  crossed 
the  lake,  climbed  the  Colma,  and  entered  into 
the  sequestered  region  of  Varallo  and  be- 
yond, there  will  be  many  more  costumes  to 
cause  wonder.  Even  if  it  were  only  for  the 
enormous  rich  red  or  dark  blue  umbrellas, 
which  the  visitors  to  the  fair  of  Orta  carry 
along  highway  and  lake-shore,  there  would 
be  cause  for  gratitude,  since  the  very  um- 
brellas cast  further  notes  of  colour  upon  the 
fair  Italian  landscape.  Then  there  are  al- 
ways the  donkeys  to  cause  admiration,  some- 
times harnessed  with  horses  of  hardly  greater 
stature  than  themselves,  sometimes  driven 
tandem  fashion  before  long  funnel-shaped 
carts  on  two  wheels,  the  latter  covered,  of 
course,  with  canvas.  It  would  seem  that  all 

94 


Riviera  and  Lago  d'Orta 

the  spare  change  we  may  have  about  our 
persons,  in  the  way  of  good-will  and  loving- 
kindness,  might  well  be  spent  upon  the  meek 
and  patient  little  donkeys  of  Italy,  that  give 
so  much  and  ask  so  little  in  return. 

On  the  market-place  by  the  lake  stands  the 
Hotel  San  Giulio,  an  hostelry  of  such  quaint 
interest  that  it  deserves  description,  even  in 
a  book  which  does  not  recommend  particu- 
lar hotels  to  tourists.  Hotel  San  Giulio  has 
an  interior  court  decorated  with  plants. 
Every  aspect  of  the  house  is  old-world  and 
old-fashioned,  and  possibly  even  a  little  out 
of  line,  like  an  object  of  art  made  by  hand 
and  not  manufactured  by  machinery.  The 
two  little  galleries  and  the  doors  on  their 
antique  hinges  give  evidence  of  the  good  old 
times.  They  have  the  appearance  of  being 
home-made. 

In  the  days  before  the  usefulness  of  the 
Simplon  carriage  road  had  begun  to  wane, 
and  its  popularity  had  been  largely  super- 
seded by  that  of  the  St.  Gothard  railroad, 
and  long  before  the  Simplon  tunnel  had  been 
thought  of,  Orta  saw  much  through  traffic 
between  Italy  and  the  countries  to  the  north, 
and  much  coming  and  going  of  notabilities, 
in  public  or  private  coaches,  bound  on  im- 

95 


The  Italian  Lakes 

portant  diplomatic  and  military  errands,  or 
on  pleasure  bent.  Many  of  these  travellers 
seem  to  have  stayed  at  the  San  Giulio,  and 
very  obligingly  wrote  their  names  in  the 
strangers'  book  of  the  hotel,  thus  making  a 
truly  extraordinary  collection  of  autographs. 
Beginning  with  1851,  this  book  proceeds  to 
enumerate  a  list  of  royalties  and  of  other 
persons  distinguished  for  one  reason  or  an- 
other. 

The  then  King  and  Queen  of  Saxony  head 
the  list.  There  follow  the  names  of  many 
English  lords  and  ladies.  In  bewildering 
array  and  without  order  of  precedence,  the 
reader's  eyes  fall  upon  the  signatures  of  a 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Savoy,  of  Cavour,  of 
several  English  generals,  the  Duchess  of 
Genoa,  German  countesses,  Prince  and  Prin- 
cess de  Joinville,  Baron  Charles  de  Roths- 
child, English  bishops  and  deans,  Prince 
Jerome  Napoleon,  Russians,  Belgians,  le  Due 
d'Aumale,  Louis  Kossuth  (twice),  Professor 
Ruskin  of  Oxford,  the  Queen  of  England 
(from  Baveno,  in  1879),  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Prus- 
sia (Oct.  12,  1883),  Baker  Pasha,  the  Count 
of  Flanders,  and  Queen  Margherita  of  Italy 
(from  Stresa,  Sept.  26,  1891). 


Riviera  and  Lago  d'Orta 

And  now  to  the  island  of  San  Giulio, 
which  lies  off  the  promontory  of  Orta,  like 
a  gem  of  special  price  pendent  from  a  jew- 
elled necklace! 

You  may  have  seen  this  island  from  the 
railroad,  from  the  slopes  in  your  descent 
upon  Orta,  or  from  the  water-front  of  the 
market-place,  but  it  should  be  seen  also  at 
closer  quarters  and  examined  from  the  van- 
tage-point of  the  water  itself.  At  the  time 
of  the  author's  visit,  there  were  half  a  dozen 
boatmen,  organized  as  a  sort  of  a  benevolent 
society  under  the  presidency  of  a  fine-looking 
patriarch  with  a  white  beard.  It  was  re- 
ported that  these  men  had  an  arrangement 
by  which  their  total  earnings  were  pooled  at 
the  end  of  the  week  and  a  dividend  declared 
after  the  fashion  of  real  live  syndicates.  This 
arrangement  at  least  prevented  the  usual 
skirmishes  for  employment  among  the  men, 
and  to  that  extent  heightened  the  pleasure 
of  the  trip  across  to  the  island. 

Orta  itself  is  not  very  modern  in  appear- 
ance and  in  appurtenances,  but  compared 
with  the  island  of  San  Giulio,  it  is  abso- 
lutely recent.  The  row  over  to  the  island 
takes  us  back  not  merely  through  the  whole 
of  modern  and  mediaeval  history,  but  actu- 

97 


The  Italian  Lakes 

ally  deposits  us  on  the  very  edge  of  ancient 
history,  in  the  period  when  Constantine,  the 
Great,  was  ruler  of  the  Roman  Empire  and 
had  his  capital  at  Byzantium,  renamed  Con- 
stantinople after  himself. 

Tradition  relates  that  during  his  reign  two 
brothers,  Julius  and  Julianus,  were  born  of 
Christian  parents  on  the  Grecian  island  of 
/Egina,  and  that  later  in  life,  after  many 
vicissitudes,  they  reached  the  shores  of  Lago 
d'Orta  as  Christian  missionaries.  Before  set- 
tling there  they  seem  to  have  suffered  from 
the  persecutions  of  the  Emperor  Valens,  a 
partisan  of  Arianism,  but  to  have  received 
official  authorization  from  Emperor  Theo- 
dosius  to  carry  on  their  missionary  labours 
in  outlying  portions  of  the  empire.  They 
are  reputed  to  have  begun  their  work  to- 
gether at  Gozzano,  near  the  southern  end  of 
the  lake;  then  Julius,  leaving  his  brother, 
is  said  to  have  established  himself  on  the 
island  now  known  as  that  of  San  Giulio. 

It  must  have  seemed  a  far  cry  from  the 
classic  island  in  the  /Egean  Sea  to  this  rocky 
islet  under  the  shadow  of  the  Alps. 

As  the  boat  touches  the  steps  of  the  island 
landing,  and  the  visitor  mounts  from  .the 
water's  edge  into  the  interior  of  an  ancient 

98 


Riviera  and  Lago  d'Orta 

little  basilica,  he  is  reminded  of  the  early 
centuries  of  Christian  architecture.  There 
have  been  many  changes  and  restorations,  but 
the  general  plan  of  this  church  recalls  on 
a  small  scale  the  Church  of  S.  Ambrose  in 
Milan,  the  women's  gallery,  or  matroneum, 
points  back  to  St.  Sophia  in  Constantinople, 
and  the  primitive  pulpit  reliefs  suggest  cer- 
tain ornaments  of  St.  Mark's  in  Venice.  A 
sarcophagus  of  white  marble  has  been  fur- 
nished with  a  lid  and  is  used  as  an  alms-box. 
The  style  of  the  leaf  pattern  of  the  sarcoph- 
agus shows  that  it  dates  from  the  Roman 
period  of  the  Antonines,  but  the  lettering, 
"  Meinul,"  probably  refers  to  one  Meinulf, 
Duke  of  the  Island  of  San  Giulio,  who  was 
stationed  here  by  the  Longobardic  Prince 
Agilulf. 

The  principal  feature  of  the  Byzantine 
interior  of  the  church  is  the  archaic  pulpit 
of  serpentine  marble,  once  green,  now  black 
with  age,  the  stone  having  been  cut  from  the 
neighbouring  quarries  of  Oira.  The  reliefs 
on  this  pulpit  represent  the  symbols  of  the 
four  evangelists.  There  is  also  the  figure 
of  a  man,  possibly  St.  Paul,  standing  with 
a  sword,  and  a  number  of  fabulous  and  mys- 
tical animals  are  carved  upon  this  pulpit, 

99 


The  Italian  Lakes 

similar  to  those  seen  at  Gravedona  on  Lake 
Como.  The  pulpit  stands  upon  four  dis- 
similar columns,  now  somewhat  mutilated. 
In  the  church  a  parchment  is  shown  of  Otto 
the  Great,  dated  962,  and  granting  the  canons 
of  the  basilica  of  San  Giulio  certain  lands 
in  return  for  services  rendered  against  the 
Longobardic  king,  Berengar  II.,  this  tak- 
ing place  in  the  very  year  in  which  Otto 
renewed  the  imperial  office  in  Rome  and  in- 
stituted the  Holy  Roman  Empire  of  the 
German  nation. 

The  church  also  contains  a  Madonna 
ascribed  to  Gaudenzio  Ferrari,  and  other 
paintings  said  to  be  by  Guido  Reni,  Carlo 
Dolce,  and  Sasso  Ferato.  On  the  pillars 
local  chroniclers  have  scratched  bits  of  news, 
for  the  most  part  in  strange  "Hn  and  set- 
ting forth  the  remarkable  u  ^teristics  of 
the  passing  years,  e.g.  in  1523  there  was 
much  rain  and  cold,  in  1588  there  was  no 
snow  at  all,  in  1666  an  extraordinary  abun- 
dance of  harvest,  etc. 

When  the  church  has  been  visited,  the 
tour  of  the  island  should  be  made  by  boat. 
It  will  not  take  long,  for  the  island  is  a  tiny 
affair,  not  more  than  three  hundred  yards  in 
length  and  160  in  width.  The  houses, 

100 


Riviera  and  Lago  cTOrta 

crowded  together  in  a  picturesque  aggrega- 
tion, rise  from  the  very  edge  of  the  quiet 
water  in  which  their  every  detail  is  clearly 
mirrored.  The  campanile  of  the  church, 
the  seminary  on  the  highest  part,  and  below 
the  dwellings  and  small  villas,  decorated  with 
characteristic  Italian  loggie,  terraces,  and 
balconies,  especially  the  graceful  archways 
for  boats,  —  all  are  faithfully  duplicated 
in  the  water.  The  Italian  love  of  house- 
tinting  has  found  free  play  on  the  island  of 
San  Giulio,  and  produced  results  in  the 
combinations  of  tones  which  win  the  admira- 
tion of  visiting  artists.  Here  a  pale  green 
house  crowds  against  a  pink  one,  then  comes 
one  in  yellow,  and  even  pale  blue  is  not 
excluded;  only  the  prosaic  whitewash  of 
common  use  seems  to  be  barred  from  the  col- 
our-scheme of  the  island  of  San  Giulio. 
None  of  the  precious  space  is  wasted;  where 
stone  and  mortar  are  not  in  possession,  gar- 
dens bloom  and  creeping  plants  fill  the  very 
interstices  of  this  island  conglomeration. 

As  the  boat  heads  once  more  for  Orta,  the 
water-front  of  that  town  is  seen  to  be  pierced 
all  along  the  line  by  the  distinctive  Italian 
archways  for  boats.  Flowering  balconies 
and  tiny  gardens  make  Orta  brilliant,  tur- 

101 


The  Italian  Lakes 

reted  villas  dot  the  hillside  at  the  back,  and 
the  railroad,  up  above,  adds  to  the  beauty 
of  the  whole  by  the  handsome  arches  of  its 
bridge  and  its  truly  superb  manner  of  con- 
struction. 

There  remains  for  our  inspection  the 
Monte  d'Orta,  or  sacro  monte,  just  behind 
the  town,  intervening  between  the  town 
proper  and  the  railroad  and  occupying  what 
might  be  termed  the  back  of  the  promontory 
of  Orta. 

The  monte  is  a  finely  wooded  hill  laid  out 
as  a  park,  on  which  twenty  chapels  have 
been  set  among  the  trees  to  illustrate  the  life 
of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi.  There  are  bright 
laurel  hedges  and  convenient  benches  for 
the  visitor  along  the  shady  paths.  Here  are 
oaks  and  pines,  and  in  their  midst  carpets 
of  green  lawns  gleam  with  the  sheen  of  vel- 
vet pile.  Here  and  there  through  the  branch- 
ing trees  glimpses  are  caught  up  and  down 
the  lake,  as  it  sparkles  under  the  action  of 
wind  and  sun,  or  lies  placid  in  the  shelter 
of  some  projecting  mountain.  The  bare  soli- 
tary tower  of  Buccione  rises  in  the  south; 
opposite  Orta,  the  church  at  Boleto  is 
perched  above  sheer  quarries  of  black  gran- 


IO2 


Rimer  a  and  Lago  d'Orta 

ite;   from  a  tower  on  the  summit  of  the  hill 
even  Monte  Rosa  is  said  to  be  visible. 

Amid  the  tranquillity  of  the  park  voices 
come  up  from  the  market-place  below,  a 
cart  rumbles  on  the  highway,  a  cock  crows 
in  a  village  barn-yard,  or  a  church-bell  rings. 
The  tiled  roofs  of  the  town,  green,  red,  and 
brown,  stretch  themselves  in  many  lines 
toward  the  lake  and  make  for  rest  and  shel- 
ter. 


103 


CHAPTER  X 

OVER  THE  COLMA  TO  VARALLO:  CHESTNUT 
FORESTS,  VARALLO,  GAUDENZIO  FERRARI, 
SACRO  MONTE,  FOBELLO  AND  BEYOND 

Chestnut  Forests 

FOLD  on  fold  the  chestnut  forests  mount 
from  Lake  Orta  to  the  Colle  di  Colma.  Fold 
on  fold  they  descend  on  the  other  side,  in 
rich  rounded  waves  of  foliage,  and  stretch 
for  miles  in  a  sea  of  exquisite  colour  down 
into  the  Val  Sesia.  A  great  part  of  the 
way  over  the  pass  is  brightened  for  the  trav- 
eller in  the  month  of  June  by  the  glisten  of 
their  satin  leaves,  the  yellow  tassels  of  their 
blossoms,  or  the  vivid  green  of  their  count- 
less burrs.  This  is  decidedly  the  chestnut 
belt  in  which  the  visitor  to  the  southern  foot 
of  the  Alps  finds  himself.  Farther  south  are 
the  vineyards  in  the  foot-hills,  then  come  the 
irrigated  fields  of  rice  in  the  plains,  but  here 
the  chestnut  reigns  supreme,  a  staple  product, 
a  crop  constituting  a  veritable  agricultural 

104 


Chestnut  Forests 

and  commercial  department  of  its  own  in 
fruitful  Italy. 

In  the  silent  dawn  one  of  the  fraternity 
of  boatmen  rows  you  across  Lake  Orta  to  the 
white  houses  of  Pella,  where  the  path  starts 
for  the  pass.  The  lake  lies  calm  and  un- 
ruffled in  its  titanic  cup,  the  storied  island  of 
San  Giulio  rests  upon  the  water  like  a  float- 
ing swan  asleep.  Pella  itself,  though  tiny  of 
dimension,  is  full  of  importance  by  reason 
of  a  paper-mill,  and,  as  you  start  to  climb 
through  the  trees,  a  bell  presently  tinkles  in 
the  solitude,  giving  the  impression  that  some 
alpine  cow  with  her  bell  has  wandered  down 
to  the  lowlands.  But  on  nearer  approach  it 
is  discovered  that  there  is  a  busy  brook  amid 
the  opulent  verdure,  which  turns  a  rude 
wheel,  which  again  rings  a  bell,  which  is 
to  announce  the  presence  of  a  little  inn  with 
a  thatched  roof.  Indeed  the  thatched  cot- 
tage is  characteristic  of  the  slopes  of  the 
Colle  di  Colma,  especially  on  the  side  of 
the  Val  Sesia,  where  many  neat  barns,  built 
partly  of  stone  and  mortar  and  partly  of 
wood,  are  heavily  weighted  with  picturesque 
straw  hoods. 

The  path  wanders  very  much  at  haphazard 
through  the  forest.  Here  charcoal-burners 

105 


The  Italian  Lakes 

are  detected  at  work;  there,  in  a  clearing, 
a  little  flock  of  tall,  long-legged  Berga- 
mesque  sheep  nibble  peacefully;  white,  bell- 
like  flowers  punctuate  the  shaded  stretches  of 
velvet  turf;  the  brook  murmurs  an  accom- 
panient  to  our  footsteps;  and  all  day  long 
the  cuckoo  calls  from  branch  to  branch, 
far  and  near,  over  the  great  chestnut  belt. 
It  is  worth  a  long  trip  to  reach  these  unique 
woodland  experiences  among  the  chestnuts 
and  walnuts  of  Italy. 

But  sylvan  solitude  is  not  for  long  on  these 
thickly  settled  slopes;  the  prospect  opens; 
through  the  branches  glimpses  are  caught 
of  villages  clinging  to  the  mountains;  the 
path  is  bordered  by  cultivated  patches,  and 
presently  it  widens  into  a  road,  and  the  road 
becomes  a  cobbled  street.  We  are  passing 
through  a  village  built  on  a  small  scale.  A 
sudden  corner  brings  us  into  the  diminutive 
square;  a  gaudily  dressed  woman  is  seen 
leaning  out  of  the  window  of  a  house  oppo- 
site the  church,  at  another  window  a  man 
appears  in  the  act  of  playing  the  flute  to  a 
song-bird  in  a  cage.  There  is  something 
startling  about  the  appearance  of  these  peo- 
ple, and  we  stop  to  watch  them,  —  but  they 
do  not  move.  The  woman  silently  watches 

106 


Varallo 

the  street,  the  man  holds  the  flute  to  his  lips 
immovably.  Moreover,  there  is  no  sound. 
What,  is  it  possible?  We  step  nearer.  Yes, 
the  figures  are  painted.  The  instinct  which 
induces  the  Italian  to  paint  artificial  windows 
upon  his  house  walls,  or  superb  vases  at  the 
corners  of  his  best  balcony,  has  found  ex- 
pression also  in  this  secluded  mountain  vil- 
lage. 

And  then  we  swing  downward,  with  long 
strides,  over  a  fine,  new  road  into  a  region 
that  is  not  strictly  of  the  Italian  lakes,  but  is 
so  near  of  kin  that  it  shall  find  mention  in 
this  book,  the  Val  Sesia,  with  Varallo  as  its 
capital. 

Varallo 

At  the  confluence  of  the  rapid  rushing  tor- 
rents of  the  Sesia  and  the  Mastallone,  and  at 
the  end  of  the  railroad  from  Novara,  lies  one 
of  the  most  picturesquely  placed  towns  of 
Italy. 

The  first  sight  of  Varallo,  as  the  traveller 
reaches  it  from  the  trip  over  the  Colma,  is 
in  its  way  as  memorable  as  the  view  of  some 
of  Italy's  great  hill  towns,  Siena,  Orvieto, 
or  Perugia.  It  is  sights  such  as  these  which 
explain  the  landscape  backgrounds  of  some 

107 


The  Italian  Lakes 

of  the  old  masters  and  the  classical  subjects 
of  more  modern  painters,  —  backgrounds 
and  subjects  which  often  look  so  strangely 
artificial  and  imaginary  to  northern  eyes. 
But  at  Varallo,  in  this  subalpine  world,  with 
the  lower  mountain  slopes  clothed  in  a  prac- 
tically continuous  forest  of  chestnut-trees,  — 
just  as  north  of  the  Alps  the  slopes  are  pine 
clad,  —  all  the  ingredients  are  at  hand  for 
pictures  fit  to  tax  the  most  willing  credulity 
and  power  of  perception.  This  cuckoo- 
haunted  region  of  sylvan  affluence  and  abun- 
dance forms  a  fitting  link  between  the  ancient 
cities  of  the  plain  and  the  immemorial  Alps. 

A  little  old  town  clusters  and  climbs  about 
the  foot  of  a  great  rock  which  looks  like  a 
lofty  citadel  with  crown  and  diadem.  The 
cliff  towers  above  this  Italian  town  and 
dominates  it  as  truly  as  ever  an  acropolis 
overhung  a  town  of  ancient  Greece.  But  in- 
stead of  fortress  masonry  and  classic  temples, 
the  Sacro  Monte  of  Varallo  presents  the 
picture  of  peaceful  walls,  loggias,  and  domes 
belonging  to  church  and  chapel. 

We  enter  the  city  by  a  long  suburban 
avenue,  new,  bare,  and  glaring.  Then  comes 
the  railroad  station  and  a  piazza  with  statue 
of  Victor  Emmanuel  II.  These  modern  evi- 

108 


Gaudenzio  Ferrari 

dences  once  left  behind,  we  plunge  into 
streets  characteristic  of  the  past.  Here  are 
the  arcades  once  more,  the  stairways,  bal- 
conies, and  interior  courts;  here  we  are  im- 
pressed again  with  the  curious  waywardness, 
the  diminutiveness,  and  the  unexpectedness 
of  things  Italian.  There  is  a  powerful  bridge 
over  the  Mastallone,  and  near  it  a  statue  of 
General  Giacomo  Antonini.  But  Varallo  is 
also  bestirring  itself  to  keep  pace  with  the 
demands  of  the  present  Hence  there  is  an 
Alpine  club  with  reading-room,  to  which 
visitors  are  admitted,  a  huge  hydropathic 
establishment,  a  big  cotton-mill,  and  the 
blare  of  trumpets  resounds  through  the  streets 
to  the  quick  march  of  battalions  of  gay  Al- 
pini,  or  alpine  troops.  Varallo  also  possesses 
a  natural  history  collection,  in  conjunction 
with  a  small  picture-gallery,  and  this  turns 
thought  to  the  painter  who  has  given  the 
town  one  of  its  claims  upon  world-wide  at- 
tention, —  Gaudenzio  Ferrari. 

Gaudenzio  Ferrari  (1484  -  I549>  or  I47f  ~ 
1546) 

There  is  a  quiet  little  square  in  Varallo, 
grass-grown  and  almost  pathetic  in  its  aloof- 

109 


The  Italian  Lakes 

ness,  which  goes  by  the  name  of  Piazza  Fer- 
rari. Here,  surrounded  by  a  ring  of  little 
houses  crowded  one  against  the  other,  with 
peaked  mountain  forms  for  a  background, 
stands  the  marble  statue  of  Gaudenzio  Fer- 
rari by  Vedova.  The  painter  is  represented 
somewhat  conventionally  with  an  open  scroll 
in  one  hand,  and  the  other  extended  as 
though  in  the  act  of  explaining  or  illustrating 
some  thesis.  He  wears  the  cap,  tunic,  and 
hose  and  the  flowing  robe  of  his  day  and 
fashion.  Some  symbolical  medallions  and 
an  inscription  decorate  the  pedestal,  and  an 
iron  railing  throws  a  protecting  octagon 
around  the  whole.  Thus  the  painter  stands 
amid  the  silence  of  the  mountains. 

Gaudenzio  Ferrari  belonged  to  the  Milan- 
ese or  Piedmontese  school,  but  he  went  fur- 
ther afield  and  studied  in  Florence  and 
Rome.  He  was  a  contemporary  of  Raphael, 
a  prolific  painter  of  sacred  subjects,  an  art- 
ist of  distinct  power,  who  probably  reached 
the  climax  of  his  achievements  in  the  work 
which  he  did  in  the  pilgrimage  church  of 
Saronno.  Some  of  his  best  painting  is  also 
to  be  found  in  the  cathedral  of  Como,  in 
Turin,  and  in  the  Brera  Gallery  of  Milan, 
but  next  to  Saronno,  Varallo  is  decidedly 

no 


the  place  to  study  Gaudenzio  Ferrari  at  his 
best 

There  he  has  left  specimens  of  his  work 
in  the  old  collegiate  church  of  San  Gauden- 
zio, in  Santa  Maria  di  Loreto,  and  in  the 
chapels  of  the  Sacro  Monte.  In  the  Church 
of  Santa  Maria  delle  Grazie,  a  small  edifice 
of  insignificant  appearance,  Ferrari  painted 
a  Passion  in  twenty-one  scenes  on  the  rood 
screen,  with  the  Crucifixion  as  the  central  and 
largest  fresco.  These  frescoes  look  exceed- 
ingly well  preserved.  A  striking  feature  of 
his  work  is  that  in  some  cases  details  have 
been  worked  out  in  actual  relief  from  the 
wall,  in  order  to  heighten  the  effect  of  the 
perspective;  thus  in  the  fresco  of  the  Cru- 
cifixion, a  leg  of  the  centurion  on  horseback 
is  modelled  as  well  as  painted.  This  species 
of  art  prepares  the  traveller  for  the  remark- 
able combination  of  the  plastic  arts  with  the 
art  of  painting,  which  is  characteristic  of 
the  terra-cotta  groups  in  the  chapels  of  the 
Sacro  Monte  higher  up. 

Sacro  Monte 

From  Santa  Maria  delle  Grazie  a  broad 
pathway  shaded  by  chestnut-trees  leads  up- 

iii 


The  Italian  Lakes 

ward  to  the  summit  of  the  great  cliff.  It 
is  a  steep  inclined  plane;  the  cobbles  have 
been  carefully  laid,  and  many  feet  through 
many  years  have  worn  a  smooth  and  hard 
road-bed.  Up  there  is  the  "  New  Jerusa- 
lem," consisting  of  a  large  church  with  a 
marble  fagade,  mosaics,  and  bronze  doors, 
and  of  no  less  than  forty-six  chapels  or  ora- 
tories set  apparently  at  every  angle  and  rep- 
resenting a  great  variety  in  architecture  and 
site.  Interspersed  among  the  chapels  are 
shade-trees,  shrubberies,  and  beds  of  flowers. 
The  chapels,  which  are  not  made  to  be  entered, 
contain  portrayals  of  Scriptural  scenes  by 
means  of  life-size  figures  in  terra-cotta,  dat- 
ing mostly  from  the  sixteenth  century.  The 
Sacro  Monte  of  Varallo  was  founded  by  a 
monk,  Bernardino  Caimo,  on  his  return  from 
a  visit  to  the  Holy  Land  toward  the  end 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  at  about  the  time  that 
Columbus  discovered  America.  Most  of  the 
chapels,  however,  date  from  a  later  period, 
after  Carlo  Borromeo  had  paid  two  visits 
to  the  place  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and 
given  the  whole  the  name  of  the  "  New  Jeru- 
salem." 

It  is  not  easy  to  judge  fairly  of  the  type 
of  art  to  be  found  in  the  chapels,  while  cling- 

112 


Sacro  Monte 

ing  closely  to  the  standards  set  by  modern 
taste.  The  attempt  has  been  made  in  them 
to  combine  sculpture  and  painting,  and  this 
has  been  done  in  a  manner  generally  both 
crude  and  vivid.  Terra-cotta,  wood,  fres- 
coed backgrounds,  and  bas-reliefs  have  all 
been  used  in  the  desire  to  produce  realistic 
effects.  Thus  the  heads  are  covered  with 
real  hair,  and  the  figures  with  actual  clothes 
of  linen  and  cloth.  As  the  visitor  passes 
along  the  series  of  numbered  chapels  from 
one  oratory  to  another,  and  looks  through 
the  gratings  or  peep-holes,  it  is  easier  for 
him  to  appreciate  the  intention  of  the  artists 
than  to  commend  their  methods  or  results. 
The  evident  intent  is  to  enact  picture  plays 
in  pantomime,  to  produce  passion  or  miracle 
plays,  or  a  species  of  tableaux  in  perpetuity, 
with  the  action  of  a  great  number  of  persons 
suddenly  arrested.  In  addition  to  whatever 
interest  these  scenes  may  arouse  from  an 
artistic  standpoint,  it  is  clear  that  they  throw 
some  light  upon  the  habits  and  customs  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  for  the  artists  repro- 
duced the  fashions  of  their  own  day,  and 
were  not  above  perpetrating  anachronisms. 
The  best  groups  are  by  Tabacchetti  and 
Stella.  Tabacchetti's  real  name  was  De 

"3 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Wespin,  being  of  Flemish  origin.  The  Cru- 
cifixion attributed  to  Gaudenzio  Ferrari  him- 
self, or  to  an  artist  working  from  his  designs, 
is  perhaps  the  principal  work  of  all.  The 
materials  used  are  combined  with  great  skill, 
occasionally  there  is  much  beauty  of  model- 
ling, as  in  "  The  Nativity,"  showing  Mary 
and  Joseph  stooping  over  the  child  Jesus. 
Here  face  and  hands  are  full  of  unusual 
beauty  and  refinement.  The  "  Flight  into 
Egypt "  serves  as  an  excellent  illustration  of 
the  combination  of  different  materials  used, 
for  the  donkey  supporting  the  figures  of 
Mary  and  Jesus  is  of  wood,  a  real  rope  passes 
from  its  mouth  to  the  hand  of  an  angel, 
which,  however,  is  painted  upon  the  fres- 
coed background.  In  "  The  Last  Supper  " 
the  table  is  heaped  with  viands  and  fruits 
of  many  kinds,  the  walls  of  the  apartment 
are  handsomely  decorated,  and  an  open  door 
shows  servitors  in  waiting.  In  "  The  Entry 
into  Jerusalem  "  a  figure,  probably  that  of 
Zacchaeus,  is  seen  in  the  sycamore-tree.  The 
scene  representing  the  "  Ecce  Homo  "  is  de- 
picted in  a  palace  court  of  profuse  richness 
of  decoration.  The  figure  of  Jesus  appears 
on  a  marble  balcony,  surrounded  by  his  per- 
secutors. Below  a  great  variety  of  persons 

114 


Sacro  Monte 

are  watching  his  torments  with  gesture  and 
mien  expressive  of  their  particular  sentiments 
toward  him.  "  The  Crucifixion  "  is  a  work 
of  power  and  tragic  gloom  intensified  by  the 
portrayal  of  the  crowd's  pitiless  curiosity 
and  the  greed  of  the  soldiers  in  casting  lots 
for  Jesus'  garments. 

Yet,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  the  true 
significance  of  these  historic  scenes  cannot 
be  materialized,  but  must  be  spiritually  ap- 
prehended. Hence  when  every  artistic  merit 
which  it  is  possible  to  see  in  these  chapel 
scenes  has  been  acknowledged,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  the  visitor  turns  from  them  with 
relief  to  the  glad  sunshine  of  all  outdoors. 

The  view  from  the  chief  point  of  vantage 
on  the  Sacro  Monte  stretches  southward  over 
the  Val  Sesia,  bathed  in  genial  light,  and 
northward  up  the  narrowing  valleys  to  the 
great  mountains  beyond.  From  the  town 
below  sounds  of  homely  activity  rise  to  warm 
our  hearts  again,  and  even  the  whistling  and 
clanging  of  trains  at  the  railroad  station 
come  as  a  welcome  change.  As  we  pass  out 
of  the  "  New  Jerusalem,"  there  is  a  cheery, 
voluble  game  of  bowls  going  on  under  the 
spreading  trees  over  by  the  restaurant  and 
cafe.  It  may  not  be  amiss  for  us  to  sit  on 

"5 


The  Italian  Lakes 

the  grass  and  watch  the  merry  group  for 
awhile,  before  descending  to  the  workaday 
world  once  more.  In  the  meantime  peasant 
women,  in  the  distinctive  costumes  with 
which  the  region  to  the  north  is  so  rich,  come 
and  go  up  and  down  the  great  inclined  plane 
of  the  cobbled  pathway. 

Fobello  and  Beyond 

Northward  from  Varallo  lies  a  region  of 
surpassing  interest  and  beauty,  which  has 
not  yet  attracted  the  attention  of  many  regu- 
lar tourists,  but  is  known  principally  to  Ital- 
ian visitors  and  to  alpine  climbers  intent 
upon  Swiss  passes  and  the  high  peaks  of  the 
Zermatt  and  Saas  valley  districts.  It  is  a 
region  of  spreading  valleys  that  seem  to  have 
but  one  dominant  thought,  one  inspiration 
and  aspiration,  namely,  Monte  Rosa,  undis- 
puted in  her  rule  and  benefactions.  Viewed 
from  this  southern  aspect,  the  snow  peaks 
appear  to  start  up  out  of  the  very  forests  of 
chestnut  at  their  bases  into  a  sky  of  Italian 
limpidity  and  softness. 

The  omnibus  will  take  you  from  Varallo, 
up  the  Val  Sesia,  to  Alagna,  a  large  village 
admirably  placed  for  excursions  in  the 

116 


Fobello  and  Beyond 

Monte  Rosa  group.  It  is  a  centre  for  ex- 
perts among  the  climbing  fraternity  and  also 
for  Italian  summer  guests.  Visitors  there 
sometimes  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  picturesque 
ceremonial  of  the  blessing  of  the  sheep.  In 
another  direction,  up  the  Val  Mastallone,  it 
is  possible  to  drive  to  Fobello,  and  thence  to 
walk  over  the  Colle  di  Baranca  into  the  Val 
Anzasca,  and  thus  by  carriage  road  up  to 
Macugnaga,  at  the  foot  of  Monte  Rosa.  Or, 
diverging  from  the  Val  Mastallone  before 
reaching  Fobello,  a  road  will  be  found  as- 
cending the  Landwasser  from  the  Ponte  delle 
Due  Acque  and  leading  to  Rimella,  a  hamlet 
of  German-speaking  peasants. 

This  community  and  other  similar  Ger- 
man-speaking ones  on  the  southern  side  of 
Monte  Rosa  were  planted  by  immigrants 
from  the  Upper  Valais  in  Switzerland.  This 
fact  was  first  pointed  out  by  De  Saussure, 
as  long  ago  as  1789,  and  has  since  been  con- 
firmed by  a  careful  examination  and  com- 
parison of  dialects  and  customs.  In  other 
quarters  the  opinion  has  been  advanced  that 
these  peasants  were  perhaps  Teutonic  refu- 
gees from  the  plain  of  Lombardy,  but  this 
theory  has  not  been  sustained.  The  simi- 
larity of  the  dialects  in  the  Upper  Valais 

117 


The  Italian  Lakes 

with  those  in  the  German  communities  on 
the  southern  side  of  the  Alps  refutes  such 
a  supposition.  Especially  is  there  a  striking 
resemblance  among  words  dealing  with  do- 
mestic utensils  and  with  pastoral  life  in  the 
heights.  Besides  Rimella,  there  are  traces 
of  German  at  Alagna,  Gressoney,  Rima,  and 
Macugnaga. 

But,  whichever  way  one  turns  in  these  val- 
leys north  of  Varallo,  the  discovery  is  quickly 
made  that  this  district  is  one  of  the  very 
last  refuges  of  the  peasant  costume,  as  a 
regular  daily  institution.  Nowhere  else  in 
the  western  Alps,  to  my  knowledge,  have 
distinctive  peasant  costumes  survived  in  more 
profusion,  at  least  among  the  women.  Every 
valley  seems  to  display  a  difference  in  cut, 
texture,  or  colour. 

Especially  do  the  women  of  Fobello  dis- 
tinguish themselves  from  the  rest  on  this 
account.  They  wear  curious  cloth  leggings 
and  short  petticoats,  and  at  first  sight,  ex- 
cept for  their  white  skins,  they  look  not  un- 
like American  Indians,  veritable  squaws  of 
the  mountains.  These  leggings,  calzone,  or 
more  properly  trouser  legs,  are  richly 
worked ;  the  linen  bodice,  too,  has  inser- 
tions of  embroidery,  and  there  is  always  an 

1x8 


Pobelto  and  Beyond 

apron,  which  is  generally  folded  up  in  front 
so  as  to  serve  as  a  handy  pocket.  As  for 
the  men  of  this  same  region  at  the  southern 
foot  of  Monte  Rosa,  they  have  entirely  dis- 
carded peasant  costumes,  if  they  ever  had 
any.  The  reason  is  not  far  to  seek.  They 
emigrate  annually  to  France,  Switzerland, 
or  Germany  to  find  work,  leaving  the  women 
at  home  to  perform  the  field  and  woodland 
labour  and  keep  up  the  local  traditions.  This 
constant  contact  with  the  great  world  out- 
side has  long  since  made  peasant  costumes 
inconvenient  and  undesirable  for  the  men 
of  this  region.  It  is  reported  that  Fobello 
sends  many  men  cooks  into  foreign  parts. 

The  drive  from  Varallo  to  Fobello  is  full 
of  novelty,  partly  by  reason  of  the  women's 
costumes,  varying  with  every  valley  that 
opens  to  right  or  left,  and  partly  on  account 
of  the  extraordinary  scenery.  The  Val  Mas- 
tallone  itself  is  a  narrow  defile  of  savage  and 
sombre  mien;  the  water  flows  glass-green 
in  the  river-bed,  where  an  occasional  fisher- 
man may  be  seen  at  a  pool  on  trout  intent. 
The  picturesque  Ponte  della  Gula  and  the 
Ponte  delle  Due  Acque,  already  mentioned, 
are  landmarks. 

As  the  posta,  or  post-chaise,  progresses, 
119 


The  Italian  Lakes 

we  pass  women  carrying  enormous  loads  of 
brushwood  on  their  backs  or  heads.  Their 
costume  is  dark  blue,  kerchiefs  of  the  same 
colour  are  tied  over  their  heads.  Other 
women  are  met  wearing  footless  stockings, 
which  leave  the  feet  bare.  Some  wear  white 
sleeves  and  chemisettes,  others  show  bright 
green  or  red  trimmings.  Farther  on,  the 
dark  blue  dress  receives  a  wide  scarlet  bor- 
der, and  the  women,  working  on  their  tiny 
terraced  patches  or  watching  the  goats  on 
the  slopes,  look  like  vivid  red  blotches 
against  the  green.  Thick-soled  slippers  of 
felt  make  their  appearance,  big  gold  ear- 
rings shine  under  the  dark  hair,  and  the 
dresses  are  fastened  by  ornate  yokes  over  the 
shoulders.  It  would  take  an  expert  to  do 
justice  to  all  the  shifting  changes  of  costume 
in  a  day's  journey  through  this  land  under 
the  shadow  of  Monte  Rosa. 

From  Fobello  a  good  path  leads  over  the 
Colle  di  Baranca  to  Pontegrande,  or  over 
the  Colle  d'Egua  to  Carcoforo. 

The  Italian  passes  are  not  yet  as  carefully 
marked  as  those  of  Switzerland  or  Tyrol, 
and  in  case  of  bad  weather,  or  out  of  season, 
there  may  be  need  of  some  way-showing, 
even  for  an  expert.  Sometimes  the  clouds 

1 20 


Fobello  and  Beyond 

descend  suddenly;  in  thick  weather  the  path 
is  easily  lost  as  it  reaches  the  pastures  or 
rocky  stretches.  Yet,  if  the  sense  of  fear 
is  not  indulged,  there  is  a  mighty  joy  in  the 
interplay  of  contending  forces.  Perhaps,  as 
the  mists  part,  there  is  a  momentary  glimpse 
of  a  pole  standing  in  the  snow  upon  some 
mountain  saddle;  that  is  enough  for  the 
time  being  as  an  indication  of  the  way,  and 
presently  the  greatly  desired  other  side  is 
viewed  at  last.  Far  below  lie  the  huts  of 
a  welcome  alp,  spelling  refuge  and  safety. 

Since,  throughout  this  region,  the  able- 
bodied  men  spend  only  about  two  months  of 
the  year  at  home,  a  few  innkeepers,  a  shoe- 
maker or  two,  some  masons  making  repairs, 
some  men  working  on  the  roads,  and  a  few 
little  boys  tending  the  goats  are  about  the 
only  representative  males  in  evidence.  It 
would  then  seem  just  to  the  good  women  of 
these  valleys  to  feel  some  special  gratitude 
to  them  for  the  well-tended  pastures  on  the 
slopes,  the  neat  hamlets  on  terraces,  and  the 
general  picturesqueness  they  impart  Neces- 
sity has  peopled  these  alpine  valleys;  no 
mere  enthusiasm  for  mountain  scenery  has 
drawn  this  population  to  its  laborious,  unre- 
mitting, and  largely  cheerless  tasks.  No  one 

121 


The  Italian  Lakes 

can  pass  through  these  valleys  and  view  the 
conditions  of  earthly  existence  there  with- 
out wishing  mankind  every  just  and  hon- 
ourable relief  from  such  burdens,  and  a 
greater  participation  in  the  comforts  and 
pleasures  of  life. 

At  this  point,  our  excursion,  away  from 
the  lakes  into  the  forest  recesses  and  under 
the  vaulting  branches  of  the  chestnut  belt, 
must  cease  and  the  return  must  be  made,  in 
accordance  with  a  strict  pursuance  of  the 
subject  indicated  by  the  title  of  this  book. 


199 


CHAPTER  XI 

LAKE  LUGANO 

AFTER  the  broad  and  expansive  beauties 
of  Lakes  Maggiore  and  Como,  Lake  Luga- 
no's merits  strike  one  as  of  quite  another 
order.  This  lake  is  the  Cinderella  among 
the  sisters,  untamed,  unsophisticated,  and 
unpremeditated,  a  wild  little  thing  with 
savage,  bizarre  twists  and  turns. 

Sir  John  Lubbock,  in  "  The  Scenery  of 
Switzerland,"  tells  us  that  it  "  owes  its  com- 
plex form  to  the  fact  that  it  consists  of  two 
longitudinal  and  two  transverse  valleys 
dammed  up  by  moraines."  John  Adding- 
ton  Symonds,  in  his  "  Sketches  in  Italy," 
depicts  its  chief  beauty  when  he  writes  of  it 
as  "  coloured  with  the  tints  of  fluor-spar,  or 
with  the  changeful  green  and  azure  of  a  pea- 
cock's breast."  Indeed,  seen  from  the 
heights,  it  may  be  fancifully  likened,  on  a 
monster  scale,  to  one  of  those  brilliant  liz- 
ards tinted  in  rich  greens  and  blues,  which 

123 


The  Italian  Lakes 

may  be  seen  at  times  in  this  subalpine  re- 
gion. If  comparisons  must  needs  be  made, 
Lake  Lugano  may  be  said  to  bear  some- 
what the  same  scenic  relation  to  Lake  Mag- 
giore  that  Lake  Luzern  bears,  for  instance, 
to  Lake  Geneva. 

The  regular  tourist  approaches  are  nu- 
merous. There  is  first  of  all  the  interna- 
tional line  of  the  St.  Gothard,  which  skirts  a 
portion  of  its  eastern  and  western  shores  and 
crosses  from  side  to  side  between  Bissone 
and  Melide  on  a  viaduct  half  a  mile  long. 
Then  there  is  the  steam-train  from  Luino 
on  Lake  Maggiore  to  pretty,  bustling  little 
Ponte  Tresa,  where  the  transfer  is  made  to 
a  Lugano  steamboat.  There  is  also  the  de- 
lightful trip  over  from  Menaggio  on  Lake 
Como  to  Porlezza  by  miniature  railroad, 
and  thence  by  steamboat  to  the  city  of  Lu- 
gano. Besides  these  generally  used  lines  of 
travel  there  is  the  railroad  from  Varese  to 
Porto  Ceresio;  while  from  Argegno  on  Lake 
Como  a  splendid  road  leads  through  the 
high-placed  Val  d'Intelvi  to  Osteno  or  to 
Maroggia  on  Lake  Lugano. 

Coming  over  from  Menaggio,  fresh  from 
the  exuberant  villa  gardens  of  Lake  Como, 
the  traveller  may  at  first  find  Lake  Lugano 

124 


3&ORCOTE,   ON  LAKE  LUGANO 


Lake  Lugano 

a  trifle  sad  of  appearance  and  neglected 
looking,  and  the  eye  needs  to  accustom  itself 
to  a  complete  change  of  characteristics. 

Embarking  at  Porlezza,  we  stop  at  Osteno 
with  its  gorges,  and  then  touch  at  a  series 
of  villages,  all  upon  the  northern  bank, 
perched  in  the  track  of  the  sun  like  a  row 
of  swallows'  nests,  beginning  with  Cima, 
Cressogno,  and  Loggio.  At  San  Mamette 
there  is  an  immensely  picturesque  bit.  The 
Oriental-looking,  basin-like  Val  Solda  opens 
at  the  back,  and  high  above  are  the  white 
houses  of  Castello.  Then  follow  Albogasio, 
Oria,  Bellarma,  Gandria  (a  considerable 
place),  then  Castagnola  at  the  foot  of  Monte 
Bre,  and,  finally,  prosperous  Lugano,  the 
city,  with  its  water-front  of  hotels  and  its 
environs  full  of  grace  and  charm. 

The  author  has  already  devoted  some 
pages  to  Lugano  in  a  previous  work,  "  Ro- 
mance and  Teutonic  Switzerland,"  but  it  is 
a  pleasure  to  tell  of  the  place's  growing  at- 
tractiveness. 

For  all  its  Italian  arcades  and  its  Italian 
gardens,  the  city  wears  a  substantial  Swiss 
air.  Thrift  and  progress  are  stamped  upon 
it,  and  wealth  and  commerce  flow  into  it, 
as  befits  a  station  on  the  main  line  between 

125 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Germany  and  Italy.  Lugano  has  now  also 
a  cable  line  running  up  from  the  quay  to  the 
high-placed  station  of  the  St.  Gothard  R.  R., 
and  another  line  mounting  to  the  near-by 
view-point,  Monte  San  Salvatore;  likewise 
an  electric  line  connecting  the  two  cable 
roads  and  branching  out  into  the  surround- 
ing country.  There  are  no  less  than  three 
steamboat  piers;  the  great  number  of  hotels 
and  pensions  are  designed  to  suit  every  purse; 
the  shops  are  filled  with  the  best  of  this 
world's  goods,  even  English  groceries  being 
procurable;  and  there  are  walks  and  drives 
by  land  and  excursions  by  water  in  many 
directions.  To  the  east  lies  green  Monte 
Bre,  with  vineyards  and  olive-trees;  oppo- 
site, bare  Monte  Caprino,  and  landward, 
villas  of  growing  magnificence  clothe  the 
circling  hills. 

Especially  have  the  Germans  long  since 
learned  to  avail  themselves  of  Lugano  as  a 
spring  and  autumn  resort,  convenient  of  ac- 
cess. Hither  came  Moltke  and  Roon  after 
the  Franco-Prussian  war,  and  the  then 
Crown  Prince  of  Germany.  Georg  Ebers, 
the  Egyptologist,  made  annual  visits  to  Lu- 
gano, and  altogether  the  progress  of  the 
place  has  been  advantageously  affected  by 

126 


Lake  Lugano 

the  presence  of  these  enthusiastic,  well-edu- 
cated, and  warm-hearted  visitors  from  north 
of  the  Alps. 

During  the  Italian  struggle  for  independ- 
ence, from  1848  to  1866,  Lugano  was  fre- 
quently used  by  Mazzini  as  his  headquarters. 
The  little  village  of  Capolago,  at  the  head 
of  the  lake,  whence  the  railroad  starts  for 
the  summit  of  Monte  Generoso,  contained 
the  Libreria  Elvetica,  the  famous  printing- 
press  from  which  revolutionary  appeals  to 
the  Italian  people  were  issued  and  literature 
was  distributed.  The  village  lies  just  across 
the  frontier  from  Italy.  At  Ligornetto,  off 
to  the  west  from  the  railroad  station  of 
Mendrisio,  the  sculptor  Vin'cenzo  Vela  was 
born,  to  whom  reference  is  made  several 
times  in  this  volume.  He  has  left  a  great  deal 
of  work  in  statuary  throughout  the  southern 
slope  of  the  Alps.  A  little  museum  contain- 
ing models  of  his  works  is  maintained  at 
Ligornetto.  This  sculptor  was  one  of  many 
artistic  workmen  and  master  builders  who 
have  gone  out  into  the  world  from  this  re- 
gion or  from  the  high-lying  Val  d'Intelvi. 

The  boundary-line  between  Switzerland 
and  the  countries  at  the  southern  foot  of  the 
Alps  performs  many  curious  and  apparently 

127 


The  Italian  Lakes 

unaccountable  tricks  along  its  many  miles 
of  extent,  but  this  is  particularly  the  case  on 
and  about  Lake  Lugano.  Here,  for  example, 
the  Italian  frontier  takes  the  most  astonish- 
ing tumble  at  the  foot  of  Monte  Generoso. 
The  Italian  village  of  Campione  is  entirely 
surrounded  by  Swiss  territory,  with  the  re- 
sult that  strange  custom-house  complications 
are  constantly  arising.  Thus  also,  when  you 
descend  from  the  summit  of  Monte  Generoso 
by  the  beautiful  path  which  dips  down  in 
many  zigzags  and  curves  to  the  Val  d'ln- 
telvi,  you  pass  from  Switzerland  to  Italy, 
and  an  armed  custom-house  guard  considers 
it  necessary  to  search  even  the  most  harm- 
less and  innocuous  knapsack  for  contraband. 
It  will  be  of  interest  to  botanists,  for  whom, 
indeed,  the  region  of  Lake  Lugano,  and  es- 
pecially the  mountain-form  of  Monte  Gene- 
roso, contain  many  delights,  to  learn  that 
on  rocky  Monte  Salvatore  a  little  red  flower 
grows  which  is  said  to  be  found  nowhere 
else,  the  Daphne  Salvatoria. 

Naturally  the  supply  of  water  in  all  the 
Italian  lakes  is  largely  dependent  upon  the 
condition  of  the  snow  in  the  mountains. 
This  is  true  also  of  Lake  Lugano.  But  the 
variation  in  normal  times  is  singularly  slight, 

128 


Lake  Lugano 

and  year  in  and  year  out,  decade  by  decade, 
the  sweet  blue  mountain  lake  with  its  shal- 
lows of  vivid  green  snuggles  down  between 
its  steep  banks,  secure  and  caressed  by  the 
touch  of  sunshine.  The  spring  flowers  peep 
and  blossom  in  the  neighbouring  valleys, 
primroses,  violets,  periwinkles,  starry  anem- 
ones, and  lilies  of  the  valley.  The  summer 
heat  sweeps  them  aside  and  ripens  grape, 
fig,  and  olive,  and  the  autumn  garners  a  full 
vintage  from  the  vineyards  and  an  amazing 
crop  from  the  chestnut  and  walnut  forests. 


129 


CHAPTER  XII 

MONTE  GENEROSO 

THERE  is  something  in  the  very  name  of 
Monte  Generoso  which  leads  us  to  expect 
great  things.  When  we  reach  the  summit 
we  find  it  to  be  one  of  the  most  munificent, 
large-hearted,  and  broad-minded  of  our  ben- 
efactors among  the  mountains,  spreading  out 
its  welcome  with  panoramic  gesture  and  in- 
viting free  inspection  of  its  treasures  in  peak 
and  plain,  land  and  water. 

All  the  alpine  heights  are  friends  of  ours, 
and  we  like  to  dwell  upon  their  good  points 
and  virtues,  since  from  their  tops  the  glib, 
the  sordid,  and  the  futile  look  low-down 
and  insignificant.  Even  the  little  hillocks, 
to  which  we  climb  for  an  outlook,  give  us 
a  freer  aspect,  and  bring  us  nearer  heaven. 

But  Monte  Generoso  somehow  wins  our 
special  affection,  because  it  gives  so  lavishly 
and  profusely  of  its  best  in  return  for  very 
little  effort  on  our  part.  It  is  so  situated 

130 


Monte  Generoso 

between  Lakes  Lugano  and  Como  as  to  dom- 
inate an  area  of  unusual  variety.  From  its 
summit  can  be  read  an  epitome  of  the  fairest 
and  the  best  qualities  of  the  Italian  lakes 
region.  Among  all  the  mountains  of  the 
Alps,  none  can  be  found  to  resent  the  un- 
stinted praise  which  tourists  and  travellers 
gladly  render  to  this  famous  point  of  view. 
The  topmost  peaks  of  white  are  far  above 
any  petty  jealousy,  and  fear  no  competition, 
while  the  lower  heights  look  up  to  Monte 
Generoso  with  genuine  respect  and  fraternal 
good  feeling. 

Monte  Generoso  has  planned  its  largess  on 
a  sumptuous  scale,  with  titanic  proportions 
and  open-handed  hospitality.  A  mountain 
railway  runs  up  to  the  hotel,  and  a  short 
walk  leads  to  the  pinnacle  of  its  fame,  —  the 
rock,  whence  lie  revealed  the  glories  of  the 
range  of  the  Alps,  the  rolling  masses  and  ser- 
rated ridges  of  the  fore-hills  and  spurs,  the 
wealth  of  colour  of  lakes  and  flower-like 
islands  and  the  table  tapestry  of  the  plain 
of  Lombardy.  There  are  several  paths  from 
the  shores  of  Lakes  Lugano  and  Como  for 
those  who  wish  to  walk,  but  now  that  the 
railroad  mounts  so  conveniently  from  Capo- 
lago,  it  is  well  to  remember  that  these  paths 


The  Italian  Lakes 

can  be  used  going  down  as  well  as  up,  — 
and  even  a  little  better. 

As  you  slip  out  from  the  summit  hotel  to 
see  the  sunrise,  the  larks  are  already  singing 
and  soaring  jubilantly  in  the  half-light  over 
the  grassy  slopes.  The  cool  clean  air  blows 
fresh  across  a  scene  of  extraordinary  gran- 
deur and  compass.  Northward  the  chain  of 
the  Alps  lies  ashen  gray  in  the  dawn,  wait- 
ing for  the  touch  of  light  to  fire  its  beauties, 
paint  its  peaks  in  bright  colours  and  block  out 
its  deep  shadows.  Below  and  round  about, 
the  world  of  the  Italian  lakes  still  sleeps  be- 
fore renewing  the  bustle  and  brilliancy  of 
its  daytime  activities. 

Then  comes  the  sun.  It  picks  out  Monte 
Rosa  for  first  honours  and  special  favours, 
and  tips  its  five-fingered  massif  with  a  rosy 
glow. 

The  sun  now  proceeds  to  honour  by  de- 
grees all  the  other  peaks  in  this  amphithea- 
tre of  the  Alps,  in  the  order  of  their  height 
and  skyward  attainment,  touching  them  in 
a  strict  order  of  precedence  that  never  va- 
ries, when  the  sky  is  clear,  until  its  rays  have 
surmounted  the  last  intervening  range  and 
are  seen  to  shine  on  all  alike.  Many  of 
them  are  old-time  favourites  of  ours,  which 

132 


Monte  Generoso 

have  been  seen  before  from  other  points  of 
view,  in  detachments,  companies,  and  groups, 
but  are  here  brought  together  for  a  grand 
international  review. 

Standing  on  Swiss  soil,  we  can  let  the  eye 
sweep  from  the  Graian  Alps  to  the  moun- 
tains of  Tyrol,  from  France,  over  a  good  bit 
of  Switzerland  and  Northern  Italy  to  Aus- 
tria. It  is  our  privilege  thus  to  unite  all 
these  countries  in  our  kindly  regard  and  pro- 
found appreciation.  Beginning  with  the 
pyramidal  Monte  Viso,  off  to  the  west  be- 
yond Turin  in  Piedmont,  the  eye  strays'  past 
Gran  Paradiso  to  Monte  Rosa  and  other 
peaks  of  the  Zermatt  region.  The  Matter- 
horn  is  there,  but  curiously  dwarfed  by 
Monte  Rosa.  Eastward  along  the  line  we 
come  upon  our  familiar  friends  of  the  Ber- 
nese Oberland,  now  strangely  distant  in  their 
attitude,  the  Aletschhorn,  the  Jungfrau,  the 
Finsteraarhorn,  and  others.  Then  comes  the 
break  in  the  alpine  wall  where  lies  the  St. 
Gothard  Pass,  and  after  that  the  Rheinwald- 
horn,  the  mountains  between  Val  Ticino  and 
Lake  Como,  a  glimpse  of  the  mountains  of 
the  Engadine  and  the  Spliigen  Pass,  and 
finally  the  Colmo  dei  Tre  Signori  on  the 
frontier  of  Italy  and  Austria. 


The  Italian  Lakes 

As  the  sun's  rays  creep  down  into  the  fore- 
hills  a  cuckoo  calls  to  the  morn  from  below 
in  the  chestnut  groves,  and  this  call  super- 
sedes the  tremulous  note  of  an  owl  in  the 
thickets;  the  larks  careen  more  gaily  than 
ever  in  the  faultless  air,  and  presently  the 
cattle  are  seen  moving  out  from  the  huts 
where  they  have  spent  the  night.  They 
spread  out  over  the  rolling  uplands  in  single 
file,  or  group  themselves  upon  the  knolls, 
where  their  deep  brown  and  brilliant  buff 
colours  contrast  well  with  the  rich  green  of 
the  pastures  and  the  pale  blue  of  the  farther 
mountains. 

As  the  sun  rises  still  higher  in  the  heav- 
ens all  the  details  of  this  surprising  sub- 
alpine  region  come  more  boldly  to  the  fore, 
—  forests,  watercourses,  roads,  villages,  cul- 
tivated fields,  and  villages  nestling  in  the 
mountain  basins.  Down  at  Melide  the  shal- 
low spots  in  Lake  Lugano  show  glass-green 
beside  the  azure  of  the  deeper  parts.  A 
constant  rumble  ascends  from  the  torrent 
near  Rovio.  The  height  of  San  Salvatore 
far  below  looks  like  a  younger  brother  of 
Monte  Generoso  with  its  striking  resem- 
blance. 

The  town  of  Lugano  basks  beside  a  minia- 


Monte  Generoso 

ture  Bay  of  Naples,  and  the  Val  d'Intelvi 
seems  as  though  caught  up  from  the  world 
to  live  apart.  In  the  direction  of  Lake  Mag- 
giore  there  are  glimpses  of  Arona,  Stresa, 
Isola  Bella,  and  of  the  island  castle  at  Can- 
nero.  Over  there  lies  Bellagio  like  a  lion 
couchant  on  its  headland,  dividing  Lake 
Como  into  halves.  Black  dots  of  people  can 
be  seen  strolling  on  the  Bellagio  quay,  and 
the  steamboat  crawls  across  to  Varenna.  The 
town  of  Como  itself  lies  hidden,  but  its 
neighbouring  and  characteristic  Baradello 
tower  looms  up  large  and  near.  Varese, 
the  town,  shows  clear  and  bright,  and  so  does 
Varese,  the  lake,  with  its  pond-like  attend- 
ants, Monate  and  Comabbio. 

Turning  our  backs  for  a  moment  on  the 
mountains,  and  looking  southward,  the  hills 
of  the  Brianza  are  seen  to  fall  away  toward 
the  great  level  floor  of  the  plain  of  Lom- 
bardy,  where  new  marvels  await  the  gaze; 
we  pass  from  the  sight  of  little  white  vil- 
lages, clinging  to  the  rims  of  mountain  ter- 
races, to  the  faint  outlines  of  great  cities, 
stretching  out  upon  a  vast  alluvial  valley, 
which  is  lined  off  with  rows  of  Lombardy 
poplars  and  mulberry-trees.  Looking  closely 
we  see  roads,  walls,  and  other  signs  which 

135 


The  Italian  Lakes 

humanity  scratches  upon  the  surface  of  the 
earth.  As  the  weather  and  the  telescope  per- 
mit, Milan,  Lodi,  Crema,  Cremona,  Pavia, 
Piacenza,  or  possibly  even  Turin,  may  be 
seen  like  blurred  and  hazy  spots  upon  the 
great  stretch  of  mixed  greens  which  reaches 
as  far  as  the  Apennines.  Through  the  glass 
the  cathedral  of  Milan  looks  like  a  chiseled 
gray  pebble,  buttressed  on  either  side  with 
spiders'  webs. 

Herein  lies  the  great  charm  of  the  view 
from  Monte  Generoso,  in  this  vivid  contrast 
between  the  silver  arctics  of  the  Alps  and  the 
dim  half-tones  of  the  Lombardy  rice-fields. 
Here  are  uninhabited  wastes  of  ice,  snow, 
and  rock,  there  sleep  the  fruitful  lowlands, 
fat  with  the  olive  and  the  vine;  here  nature 
in  her  most  stupendous  mood  has  carved  out 
her  most  massive  constructions,  there  man's 
most  delicate  handiwork  has  wrought  some 
of  the  world's  great  masterpieces  in  architec- 
ture, painting,  and  sculpture.  From  Monte 
Generoso  it  is  possible  to  see  at  one  sweep 
of  the  eye  the  rude  alpine  hut,  the  monster 
modern  hotel,  furnished  with  the  most  re- 
cent inventions,  and  the  ancient  palazzo, 
frescoed  and  full  of  storied  art;  to  trace 
the  cow-path  on  the  steep  slope,  the  broad 

136 


Monte  Generoso 

carriage  road  along  the  lake,  and  the  rail- 
road circling  through  the  foot-hills.  Over 
yonder,  on  the  brink  of  precipices,  grow  the 
edelweiss^  the  gentian,  and  the  alpine  rose; 
down  below  in  the  fair  Italian  gardens  that 
line  the  shores  of  the  lakes,  beautify  the 
islands  and  dot  the  plains,  waxen  camellias 
grow  profusely,  lavender  wistaria  blossoms 
on  house  walls,  and  rhododendron  hedges 
stand  guard  about  the  villas.  In  the  heights 
the  hawk  sails  slowly  on  the  wing,  and  wild 
mountain  birds  dart  and  cry  shrilly;  down 
below  pretty  pigeons  flap,  swoop,  and  strut 
among  the  housetops,  and  nightingales  sing 
their  cadences  in  the  thickets  of  the  lake-side 
terraces. 

Yes,  Monte  Generoso  does  not  belie  its 
name,  and  in  return  we  can  at  least  speak 
well  of  our  grand  host,  and  praise  the  good 
men  who  built  the  hotel  and  the  railroad. 

Geologists  will  be  interested  to  know  that 
the  limestone  formation  of  Monte  Generoso 
contains  marine  fossils  and  petrifactions. 
Mere  laymen  in  matters  of  natural  history 
can  also  learn  much  about  the  formation  of 
lakes  by  observation  from  Monte  Generoso. 
Under  the  revealing  touch  of  the  sun,  the 
making  of  the  Italian  lakes  goes  on  apace, 


The  Italian  Lakes 

while  we  wait  and  watch.  First  of  all, 
there  are  the  clouds  which  are  seen  to  gather 
in  groups  along  the  white  snow-capped 
mountains  and  cover  them  here  and  there 
with  big  shade  spots  of  many  shapes;  they 
hover  over  the  violet  foot-hills  and  drop 
their  purple  shadows  on  the  green  slopes; 
they  stretch  out  gentle,  caressing  fingers  over 
the  cliffs  and  the  rocky  debris,  to  hide  the 
sterile  mountainsides  and  ease  their  lot  of 
constant  exposure  and  disintegration.  These 
same  clouds  will  some  day  fall  as  snow  and 
hail  upon  the  topmost  peaks  and  cover  the 
foot-hills  with  refreshing  showers.  The 
water  will  seek  the  lower  level  by  degrees 
and  find  the  lakes. 

Afar  off,  on  the  glaciers,  tiny  globules  of 
ice  and  delicate  snow  embroideries  are  even 
now  melting  under  the  action  of  the  sun, 
and  water  is  trickling  down  the  seams  and 
folds  of  the  mountain  flanks.  Little  streams 
are  passing  through  gorge  and  over  water- 
fall, and  bursting  forth  as  full-grown  tor- 
rents among  the  southern  foot-hills.  They 
are  being  led  over  beds  of  mountain  rubble, 
by  many  twists  and  turns,  into  the  great 
reservoirs,  called  lakes,  where  the  work  of 
filtering  and  purifying  turns  the  gray  water 

138 


Monte  Generoso 

into  the  superb  azure  which  the  world  ad- 
mires. 

And  so  the  day  advances  amid  such  sights 
and  sounds,  and  the  late  afternoon  is  here 
with  its  special  charms.  A  goat  ninnies  for 
her  straying  young.  To  right  and  left  the 
tinkle  of  many  cow-bells  rises  and  falls  on 
the  breeze.  A  flock  of  sheep  nibbles  on  the 
slope,  taking  no  notice  of  the  great  pano- 
ramic world  beyond,  each  round,  fluffy  mite 
of  cream  colour  casting  a  deep  shadow  to 
throw  itself  into  relief.  And  all  the  while 
the  water  of  the  lakes  below  glitters  like 
watered  silk  under  the  ruffling  of  the  wind. 

As  the  sun  dips  still  farther,  its  slanting 
rays  catch  the  corner  of  a  lake,  flood  it  with 
light  and  convert  it  into  a  sheet  of  fire.  The 
swallows  dart  about  with  a  wild  provocative 
skim,  circle,  and  swish  of  the  wings.  The 
mountains  grow  a  trifle  sullen  and  dark,  and 
the  valleys  dim.  Finally  only  black  waver- 
ing lines  tell  of  the  presence  of  the  ridges. 
But  a  sudden  ray  of  the  setting  sun  pierces 
through  the  gloom  and  illumines  some  slope 
with  startling  green.  The  cattle  are  seen  to 
be  driven  in  for  the  milking.  Then  comes 
the  cleansing,  fine-weather  wind  which 
draws  down  and  whistles  a  little  angrily 

139 


The  Italian  Lakes 

in  the  ravines.  Otherwise  a  great  quiet  set- 
tles over  mountain  and  lake.  By  and  by 
it  is  quite  dark  in  the  plain,  and  the  night 
comes  by  degrees  even  for  us,  but  it  will  be 
light  for  a  good  while  longer  on  the  top- 
most peaks,  and  longest  of  all  on  Monte 
Rosa. 

To-morrow,  with  the  return  of  the  first 
rays,  the  way  will  lie  down  the  grassy  slopes 
to  the  Val  d'Intelvi  and  to  the  borders  of 
our  lowland  lakes  once  more. 


140 


CHAPTER   XIII 

VARESE,  LAKE  AND  CITY 

THE  Lake  of  Varese  does  not  pretend  to 
vie  in  beauty  or  interest  with  its  big  sisters, 
Lakes  Maggiore,  Lugano,  or  Como.  Were 
it  not  for  its  situation,  it  might  be  considered 
a  commonplace  pond  of  largish  size,  some- 
what more  than  two  miles  long  and  about 
half  as  wide,  with  three  attendant  ponds  of 
lesser  size,  Biandronno,  Monate,  and  Co- 
mabbio.  The  Lake  of  Varese  is  quite  shal- 
low with  reedy  banks;  and  there  is  next 
to  no  navigation  upon  it,  even  by  rowboat. 
No  large  villages  group  themselves  directly 
upon  its  margin,  but  those  which  may  be 
seen  in  the  neighbourhood  have  rather  sought 
the  surrounding  hills.  As  a  sheet  of  water 
the  Lake  of  Varese  is  plain  and  uninterest- 
ing, and  yet  its  very  humility  enables  it  to 
perform  to  perfection  one  of  the  chief  func- 
tions of  a  lake,  —  it  reflects.  It  lies  at  the 
very  feet  of  the  last  spurs  which  the  Alps 

141 


The  Italian  Lakes 

send  southward  to  invade  the  plain,  and 
mirrors  a  vast  army  of  lesser  and  greater 
heights  standing  rank  on  rank  against  the 
western  sky.  In  this  lies  its  reward;  here  its 
glory  and  use  as  a  part  of  the  surpassing 
subalpine  landscape.  Indeed  John  Adding- 
ton  Symonds  gives  this  simple  lake  high 
praise.  He  writes  in  his  "  Sketches  in 
Italy:" 

"  In  some  picturesque  respects  Varese  is 
the  most  perfect  of  the  lakes.  Those  long 
lines  of  swelling  hills,  that  lead  into  the 
level,  yield  an  infinite  series  of  placid  fore- 
grounds, pleasant  to  the  eye  by  contrast  with 
the  dominant  snow-summits  from  Monte 
Viso  to  Monte  Leone." 

There  may  be  some  resemblance  to  the 
English  lake  region,  which  makes  this  dis- 
trict especially  attractive  to  English  writers, 
for  Ruskin  wrote  his  father  in  1845:  "I 
wished  for  you  sadly  yesterday  as  I  was 
driving  from  the  Lake  of  Varese  down  to 
Laveno  opposite  Baveno.  You  cannot  con- 
ceive anything  so  beautiful  as  the  winding 
of  the  lakes,  five  or  six  seen  at  once  among 
the  mulberry  woods  and  tufted  crags.  But, 
as  I  said  to  myself  at  the  time,  it  was  only 
the  more  beautiful  because  it  was  more  like 

142 


Varese,  Lake  and  City 
Windermere,  or  rather,  like  many  Winder- 


meres." 


There  is  a  certain  distinct  value  about 
those  lesser  lakes  which  lie  in  the  plain  suf- 
ficiently far  to  admit  of  a  panoramic  view 
of  the  Alps.  One  always  feels  this  special 
beauty  about  Lake  Neuchatel  in  Switzer- 
land. It  is  as  though,  like  the  painter,  one 
had  stepped  back  from  the  easel,  leaned  his 
head  on  one  side,  and  gained  the  general 
impression  so  much  desired.  There  are 
days,  times,  moods,  and  seasons  when  these 
humbler  lowland  members  among  the  lake 
family,  though  they  seem  somewhat  distant 
connections  of  the  Alpine  lakes,  display  a 
unique  beauty  by  the  self-effacing  method 
of  reflection. 

The  country  district  in  which  the  Lake 
of  Varese  lies  goes  by  the  name  of  the  Vare- 
sotto.  It  is  fertile  and  populous,  a  smiling 
region  where  rows  of  mulberry-trees,  care- 
fully trimmed,  grow  in  the  open  fields,  and 
vineyards  clothe  the  slopes. 

Somehow  the  Varesotto  seems  to  have 
more  than  its  share  of  those  days  of  grate- 
ful and  gracious  recollection,  when  an  extra 
brightness  lurks  in  the  green  of  the  grass, 
the  white  of  the  road,  and  the  blue  of  the 

143 


The  Italian  Lakes 

sky.  The  sun  sends  down  its  slanting  rays 
between  the  passage  of  majestic  clouds.  In 
rolling  folds  they  sail  before  a  breeze  full 
of  enterprise  and  balm.  Indeed  a  special 
benison  accompanies  the  lofty  travel  of  these 
clouds  over  the  earth.  Wholly  white  them- 
selves, they  let  fall  grateful  shadows  alike 
upon  the  tillers  of  the  soil  and  the  men 
perched  in  the  trees  packing  mulberry-leaves 
into  long  bags  for  the  silkworms;  upon  the 
oxen  drawing  creakng  wagons  along  the 
highway;  and  the  patient  donkeys  trotting 
gingerly  in  front  of  canvas-covered  carts. 
And  when  the  appeal  from  the  thirsty  earth 
and  tired  humanity  becomes  irresistible,  the 
clouds,  overburdened  with  sympathy,  de- 
velop an  undertone  of  gloom  and  presently 
dissolve  in  rain.  Such  showers  may  fall  on 
the  fields  of  the  Varesotto  and  not  touch  the 
exotic  gardens  of  Pallanza  or  the  palaces 
on  Lake  Como.  They  come  and  go  where 
there  is  need,  they  refresh  and  beautify,  they 
sparkle  but  never  spoil. 

Varese,  the  city,  is  equally  convenient  of 
access  from  Lakes  Maggiore,  Lugano,  or 
Como.  It  lies  on  the  railroad  running  from 
Laveno  on  Lake  Maggiore  to  Como  on  the 
lake  of  that  name.  It  may  also  be  reached 

144 


Varese,  Lake  and  City 

by  rail  from  Porto  Ceresio  on  Lake  Lugano, 
and  of  course  from  Milan,  the  great  near-by 
metropolis.  The  city  in  no  respect  ap- 
proaches Lugano  in  importance,  either  as 
a  strangers'  resort  or  as  an  international 
rendezvous;  it  is  strictly  provincial  and 
but  little  affected  by  tourist  travel.  The 
Varesotto  minds  its  own  business,  and  that 
business  is  largely  feeding  the  silkworm 
and  spinning  its  shining  thread. 

The  city  is  of  great  antiquity,  like  many 
of  the  places  situated  in  the  subalpine  re- 
gion. The  remains  of  lake-dwellings  on  the 
banks  of  the  Lake  of  Varese,  similar  to  those 
discovered  in  Switzerland,  indicate  that  the 
region  was  already  inhabited  in  what  is  com- 
monly known  as  the  prehistoric  age.  Varese 
shared  the  vicissitudes  of  the  Roman  era  and 
of  the  invasion  of  Teutonic  nations  with 
other  settlements  of  its  kind  in  the  Lombard 
plain,  participating  especially  in  the  vary- 
ing fortunes  of  the  adjacent  cities  of  Milan 
and  Como.  It  is  interesting  to  notice  that 
it  was  largely  due  to  the  umbrage  taken  by 
the  people  of  the  Swiss  states  of  Uri  and 
Obwalden  to  the  treatment  their  cattle  deal- 
ers had  received  at  the  hands  of  the  authori- 
ties of  Varese,  that  a  Swiss  invasion  of  the 

MS 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Valle  Leventina  or  Ticino  Valley  took  place 
in  1403.  That  conquered  district  was  in 
later  times  formed  into  the  only  Italian- 
speaking  Canton  of  Switzerland,  the  Canton 
of  Ticino.  This  incident  and  its  results  are 
treated  at  greater  length  in  the  author's 
work,  "  The  Rise  of  the  Swiss  Republic." 

In  1848  Varese  was  occupied  by  Austrian 
troops,  and  in  1859  Garibaldi  with  his  cac- 
ciatori  delle  Alpi  retreated  through  Varese 
on  his  way  from  Laveno  to  Como,  success- 
fully eluding  the  efforts  of  the  Austrian 
Field-marshal  Urban  with  ten  thousand 
troops  to  bar  his  way.  Varese  was  one  of 
the  first  places  liberated  from  Austrian  con- 
trol by  Garibaldi  in  the  same  year,  and  was 
actually  the  first  Italian  city  to  proclaim  the 
downfall  of  the  Austrian  government  and 
its  adhesion  to  the  constitutional  government 
of  Victor  Emmanuel  II.  A  monument  to 
Garibaldi's  cacciatori  has  been  erected  in 
the  city,  facing  the  public  school  buildings, 
for  the  school  youth  of  Varese  fought  under 
Garibaldi  on  the  26th  of  May,  1859. 

Although  Varese  is  an  active,  neat  little 
city  of  to-day,  its  antiquity  is  very  apparent 
in  its  six  gates,  its  main  street  lined  with 
arcades,  columned  after  the  Doric  order,  and 

146 


Varese,  Lake  and  City 

its  side  streets  which  still  dispense  with  the 
formality  of  sidewalks.  An  electric  line 
runs  directly  from  the  station  out  to  Sacro 
Monte  or  the  Madonna  del  Monte,  which 
ranks  in  interest  with  the  pilgrimage  resorts 
of  Orta  and  Varallo.  Though  Orta  may  be 
more  like  a  park  and  Varallo  more  like  a 
fortress,  yet  the  Sacro  Monte  of  Varese  is 
loftier  than  either,  rising  to  a  height  of  2,890 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  per- 
mitting a  view  of  wide  extent  over  moun- 
tain, rolling  country,  and  plain.  Viewed 
from  the  plain  it  looks  for  all  the  world  like 
a  small  hill  town  of  Tuscany  or  a  mediaeval 
robbers'  nest.  There  are  fourteen  chapels 
and  a  church  and  three  triumphal  arches, 
all  built  gradually  during  the  course  of  the 
seventeenth  century. 

When  the  time  comes  for  our  departure 
to  Como,  we  renew  our  acquaintance  with 
leisurely  Italian  railroad  travel.  Once  more 
the  vestibule  of  the  station  is  crowded  with 
passengers,  who  are  not  permitted  to  secure 
their  tickets  until  just  before  the  departure 
of  the  train.  There  is  the  usual  lack  of 
change  at  the  ticket-office,  the  invariable 
helplessness  of  third-class  passengers.  There 
is  a  ringing  of  bells,  a  tooting  of  horns,  and 

14? 


The  Italian  Lakes 

a  blowing  of  whistles.  Deeply  impressive 
cries  of  pronti  or  partenza  rend  the  air. 
Frantic,  breathless  crowds  surge  around  the 
doors.  Heavy  bags  and  sacks  are  pushed 
into  third-class  compartments,  and  a  mag- 
nificent activity  full  of  dramatic  ardour  plays 
up  and  down  the  station  platform.  There  is 
a  moment's  quiet,  then  the  train  moves  off 
toward  Como  and  its  lake. 

Presently  we  shall  catch  our  first  glimpse 
of  that  body  of  water,  famed  in  every  cor- 
ner of  the  earth,  sung  by  poets  both  an- 
cient and  modern,  and  cherished  in  the  mem- 
ory by  many  thousand  visitors. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  CITY  OF  COMO 

WHEN  the  Italian  lakes  are  mentioned, 
the  name  of  Como  is  very  likely  to  rise  first 
to  the  lips.  It  is  a  name  which  carries  in 
its  two  short  syllables  a  whole  world  of 
sparkle,  colour,  and  joyousness,  and  an  at- 
mosphere redolent  with  the  scent  of  peren- 
nial spring.  Its  delights  constitute  a  perma- 
nent possession,  a  part  of  mankind's  stock 
in  trade  of  terrestrial  romance.  Its  praises 
are  sung  in  distant  lands,  by  foreign  fire- 
sides, and  it  has  gathered  for  itself  a  veri- 
table constituency  of  appreciators  from 
among  those  who  love  that  peculiar  classic 
blending  of  nature  and  art,  in  which  the 
Italians  are  past  masters. 

Many  travellers  catch  their  first  glimpse 
of  the  city  of  Como  from  the  high-lying  St. 
Gothard  R.  R.  station.  They  look  down 
into  a  charming  water  basin,  a  snug  little 
pocket,  shut  in  by  steep  slopes  and  bordered 

149 


The  Italian  Lakes 

by  white  houses.  From  up  there  the  place 
looks  as  though  prepared  for  a  siege,  with 
its  four  gates  and  remains  of  walls.  Water 
and  mountains  are  seen  to  be  brought  into 
close  contact  and  intimate  relations,  pro- 
ducing a  particularly  cosy  effect.  The  slopes 
begin  with  a  few  vineyards  and  olive-trees 
and  top  off  with  forests  of  chestnut  and  wal- 
nut; their  sides  are  well  sprinkled  with  Ital- 
ian villas  in  the  customary  white,  yellow,  or 
pink,  perched  on  terraces.  On  the  summit 
of  the  abrupt  slope  which  overlooks  Como 
on  the  east  stands  the  Grand  Hotel  Brunate, 
reached  by  a  cable  road  which  has  gashed 
a  deep  white  line  upon  the  green.  But  a 
carriage  road  also  rises  to  the  hotel  on  a 
gentle  incline.  Due  north  looms  Monte  Bis- 
bino  with  a  white  church,  and  south  the 
Baradello  tower,  a  relic  of  the  Visconti  and 
Sforza  days  and  a  landmark  of  modern 
Como. 

Descending  into  the  city  proper,  we  find 
the  shore-front  of  Como  lined  with  women 
in  clusters  kneeling  to  do  the  family  wash- 
ing, scrubbing  and  pounding  their  linen  vig- 
orously and  loquaciously.  By  their  sides 
lie  glistening  bundles  of  their  work  well 
done.  Sharp-prowed  boats  are  pulled  up  on 

150 


The  City  of  Como 

the  paved  slant  of  the  shore.  Canvas  awn- 
ings lighten  up  the  scene.  Carts,  drawn  by 
cream-coloured  oxen  and  laden  with  wood 
or  lime,  crawl  slowly  along  the  quay,  or  a 
carriage  with  men  in  livery  from  one  of 
the  handsome  villas  goes  by  at  a  trot. 

Como,  the  Roman  Comum,  is  the  most 
populous  of  the  cities  directly  upon  any  of 
the  Italian  lakes.  It  is  easily  the  most  im- 
portant from  the  standpoint  of  art  and  indus- 
try, and  has  quite  a  through  trade  with 
Switzerland.  Its  cathedral  and  its  silk  in- 
dustry are  both  widely  known,  each  for  its 
own  excellence,  and  during  the  course  of  its 
long  history  it  has  given  the  world  a  number 
of  famous  men,  such  as  the  two  Plinies  from 
Roman  times  and,  in  modern  times,  Volta, 
the  electrician.  The  city,  as  a  sightseeing 
centre,  clusters  very  largely  around  the  Pi- 
azza Cavour,  where  most  of  the  hotels  stand, 
and  extends  into  the  near-by  cathedral  square. 
On  the  water-front  there  is  a  public  garden 
with  lake  baths;  a  jetty  has  been  pleasantly 
prolonged  into  the  open  water  to  form  a  con- 
venient harbour;  there  is  a  steamboat  pier 
and  a  quay  which  serves  the  purpose  of  a 
promenade.  Como  also  has  a  second  rail- 


The  Italian  Lakes 

road  station  for  the  lines  running  by  Sa- 
ronno  to  Milan  and  by  Varese  to  Laveno. 

A  stroll  through  the  streets  assures  us  at 
once  that  we  are  in  a  warm-weather  city. 
The  architecture  is  adapted  to  shade  and 
shelter  from  the  rays  of  the  sun.  There  are 
interior  courts,  arcades,  loggias,  and  floors 
of  rough  stone  or  mosaic.  Many  little  ways 
and  means  indicate  a  desire  to  let  the  air 
circulate;  little  stands  like  great  chess- 
pawns,  or  stuffed  cushions  and  bolsters  are 
used  to  keep  doors  ajar.  Should  you  make 
your  entry  into  Como  by  landing  at  the  pier, 
an  interesting  view  awaits  you  at  once  across 
the  Piazza  Cavour,  up  a  narrow  street,  to 
where  gleam  the  fine  fagade  and  dome  of 
the  cathedral  and  a  curious  adjoining  tower 
of  rough  stone. 

The  cathedral  of  Como  ranks  third  among 
the  Gothic  structures  of  Italy,  if  the  cathe- 
dral of  Milan  be  counted  first  and  the  Cer- 
tosa  at  Pavia  second.  It  is  in  the  form  of 
a  Latin  cross.  Originally  begun  in  the 
Gothic  style  in  1396,  it  was  transformed  and 
enlarged  by  changes  and  additions  in  Renais- 
sance style  executed  by  Tommaso  Rodari 
and  his  brother  Giacomo  in  1487  to  1526. 
These  sculptor-architects  were  natives  of 

152 


The  City  of  Como 

Maroggia  on  Lake  Lugano.  The  result  of 
their  work  was  to  make  this  cathedral  a 
masterly  example  of  "  the  fusion  of  Gothic 
and  Renaissance  styles,  both  of  good  type 
and  exquisite  in  their  sobriety,"  as  John 
Addington  Symonds  informs  us  in  his 
"  Sketches  in  Italy."  On  either  side  of  the 
main  portal  are  statues  of  the  two  Plinies, 
seated  under  canopies.  A  relief  shows  the 
elder,  the  naturalist,  studying  Vesuvius  in 
eruption;  another  shows  the  younger,  the 
author,  kneeling  to  his  patron  and  friend, 
the  Emperor  Trajan.  Within  the  cathedral 
are  noted  paintings  by  Luini  and  Ferrari, 
greatly  prized  by  connoisseurs.  A  side  por- 
tal goes  by  the  name  of  the  porta  delta  rana, 
on  account  of  a  frog  watching  a  butterfly 
which  is  carved  there. 

In  strange  contrast  to  the  polished  cathe- 
dral is  the  curiously  gay  Broletto,  or  town 
hall,  which  adjoins,  and  is  built  in  stripes 
of  black  and  white  marble  with  a  few 
patches  of  red.  It  was  finished  in  1215, 
according  to  an  inscription,  and  stands  on 
fine  arches,  under  whose  kindly  shelter  a 
fruit  and  vegetable  market  has  long  been  in- 
stalled. At  present  the  building  is  used  as 
a  record  office,  but  at  one  time  it  was  the 

153 


The  Italian  Lakes 

centre  of  the  municipal  life  of  Como,  and 
is  still  graced  by  a  balcony  for  public  ad- 
dresses, appropriately  called  the  parlera. 
The  people  assembled  below  in  parliamento, 
hence  the  modern  word  parliament.  A 
rough-looking  tower  and  a  great  ring  in  the 
wall  are  suggestive  of  prison  punishment  and 
clanking  chains.  Indeed  the  history  of  the 
city  of  Como  has  been  in  general  an  agitated 
one. 

Its  situation  at  the  head  of  the  principal 
arm  of  the  lake  caused  it  to  attain  some  im- 
portance even  under  the  Roman  dominion. 
Indeed  it  was  originally  settled  by  a  Greek 
colony,  hence  its  Greek  name  Kome  or  city. 
It  weathered  the  period  of  the  Longobards, 
the  Carolingian  era,  and  struggled  bravely 
to  maintain  municipal  independence.  Como 
passed  through  a  period  of  almost  constant 
warring  with  rivals,  especially  with  Milan 
and  Bergamo.  Frederic  Barbarossa  and  his 
empress  once  lodged  in  the  castle  Baradello. 
There  was  a  period  of  peaceful  development 
under  Visconti  rule.  Two  native  families, 
the  Vitani  and  Rusca,  through  their  partisans 
fought  for  centuries  for  control  of  the  city, 
alternately  winning  and  losing,  and  under 
the  Sforza  sovereignty  Como  suffered  se- 

154 


The  City  of  Como 

verely  from  wars  in  which  that  family  was 
involved.  The  city  changed  hands  several 
times,  coming  later  under  Spanish  and  Aus- 
trian dominion.  It  took  a  prominent  part 
in  the  Italian  wars  of  independence  and 
unity  from  first  to  last.  The  scene  of  Gari- 
baldi's famous  entry  into  Como  after  his 
victory  over  the  Austrians  at  San  Fermo  is 
the  Porta  delle  Torre,  now  called  the  Porta 
Vittoria,  near  which  stands  a  statue  of  the 
great  leader. 

In  September  a  local  rowing  regatta  is 
held  which  presents  a  striking  feature  not 
seen  outside  of  Italy,  and  worthy  of  the  at- 
tention of  sportsmen  from  other  lands.  From 
the  gondoliers  of  Venice  the  Italian  oarsmen 
of  the  lakes  have  learned  to  row  and  race 
their  shells  standing.  The  outriggers  rise 
high  above  the  hull,  and  are  securely  braced 
to  withstand  the  pressure.  The  effect  is 
exceedingly  fine  and  bold.  The  rower  faces 
the  bow  of  the  boat;  one  leg  is  placed  well 
forward  of  the  other,  the  chest  is  out,  and 
the  weight  of  the  whole  body  is  thrown  into 
the  thrust  forward.  It  would  seem  that 
great  skill  must  be  used  in  balancing  these 
frail-looking  boats  under  such  conditions, 


The  Italian  Lakes 

and  in  feathering  the  oars  properly.    "  Catch- 
ing a  crab  "  would  surely  mean  a  spill. 

And  what  noble  auspices  for  the  races.  A 
continuous  series  of  villas  line  the  western 
shore  of  the  lake.  The  water  glistens  and 
sparkles.  The  colours  come  and  go,  and  off 
to  the  north  a  little  cloud  on  Monte  Bisbino, 
the  mountain  which  acts  as  weather  prophet 
for  this  greatly  blessed  bay,  reminds  us  of 
the  popular  saying  in  Como: 

'«  Sf  Bisbin  mette  il  capello 
Corri  a  prendere  il  mantello." 

'*  When  Bisbin  puts  on  its  cap 
Do  you  run  to  take  your  coat." 


156 


CHAPTER  XV 

SOME  COMO  CELEBRITIES:   PLINY  THE   ELDER, 
PLINY  THE  YOUNGER,  ALESSANDRO  VOLTA 

Pliny  the  Elder 

OF  the  two  Plinies,  whose  statues  have  al- 
ready been  mentioned  as  adorning  the  fagade 
of  the  Como  cathedral,  the  elder  was  named 
Caius  Plinius  Secundus,  and  the  younger,  his 
nephew,  Caius  Caecilius  Secundus.  The 
former  is  known  for  his  monumental  "  Nat- 
ural History"  (Naturalis  Historia)  in  thirty- 
seven  books ;  the  latter  for  his  charming  and 
often  valuable  "  Letters."  They  were  both 
natives  of  the  Roman  Comum  (Como). 

Pliny  the  Elder  saw  much  military  and 
legal  service  in  the  Roman  state,  but  his 
fame  rests  rather  upon  his  capabilities  as  a 
student  of  natural  phenomena  and  as  an  in- 
dustrious compiler  of  physical  facts.  In  his 
"  Natural  History,"  which  has  come  down 
to  us  almost  complete,  he  tabulated  observa- 

157 


The  Italian  Lakes 

tions  and  discoursed  upon  the  stars  and  the 
earth,  upon  earthquakes,  upon  man,  wild 
beasts,  and  domesticated  animals,  upon  trees, 
fruits,  the  precious  metals  and  precious 
stones,  the  art  of  painting,  etc.  He  displayed 
extraordinary  versatility  and  tireless  indus- 
try in  his  researches. 

His  actual  achievements  as  citizen  and 
naturalist  were,  moreover,  crowned  by  his 
personal  investigation  of  the  great  eruption 
of  Vesuvius  in  79  A.  D.,  in  which  catastrophe 
he  lost  his  life.  He  was  at  the  time  in  com- 
mand of  the  Roman  fleet  at  Misenum. 
Among  the  "  Letters "  of  his  nephew  are  two 
relating  to  this  historic  eruption,  one  de- 
scribing his  maternal  uncle's  movements  and 
their  sad  consequence,  and  the  other  his  own 
impressions  and  experiences  and  those  of  his 
mother  during  those  trying  days.  These  two 
letters  acquire  an  added  interest  from  the 
fact  that  they  were  written  to  the  famous 
historian,  Cornelius  Tacitus,  at  the  latter's 
special  request.  In  Book  vi.,  16,  of  the 
"  Letters  "  we  read : 

"  Your  request  that  I  would  send  you  an 
account  of  my  uncle's  death,  in  order  to 
transmit  a  more  exact  relation  of  it  to  pos- 
terity, deserves  my  acknowledgment;  for,  if 

158 


Pliny  the  Elder 

this  accident  shall  be  celebrated  by  your  pen, 
the  glory  of  it,  I  am  well  assured,  will  be 
rendered  for  ever  illustrious,  and  notwith- 
standing he  perished  by  a  misfortune,  which, 
as  it  involved  at  the  same  time  a  most  beau- 
tiful country  in  ruins,  and  destroyed  so  many 
populous  cities,  seems  to  promise  him  an 
everlasting  remembrance;  notwithstanding 
he  has  himself  composed  many  and  lasting 
works;  yet  I  am  persuaded,  the  mentioning 
of  him  in  your  immortal  writings  will  greatly 
contribute  to  render  his  name  immortal.  .  .  . 
He  was  at  that  time  with  the  fleet  under  his 
command  at  Misenum.  On  the  24th  of 
August,  about  one  in  the  forenoon,  my 
mother  desired  him  to  observe  a  cloud  which 
appeared  of  a  very  unusual  size  and  shape. 
He  had  just  taken  a  turn  in  the  sun,  and 
after  bathing  himself  in  cold  water,  and 
making  a  light  luncheon,  gone  back  to  his 
books:  he  immediately  arose  and  went  out 
upon  a  rising  ground,  from  whence  he  might 
get  a  better  sight  of  this  very  uncommon 
appearance.  A  cloud,  from  which  mountain 
was  uncertain,  at  this  distance  (but  it  was 
found  afterward  to  come  from  Mount  Vesu- 
vius) was  ascending,  the  appearance  of 
which  I  cannot  give  you  a  more  exact  de- 

159 


The  Italian  Lakes 

icription  of  than  by  likening  it  to  that  of  a 
pine-tree,  for  it  shot  up  to  a  great  height  in 
the  form  of  a  very  tall  trunk,  which  spread 
itself  out  at  the  top  into  a  sort  of  branches; 
occasioned,  I  imagine,  either  by  a  sudden 
gust  of  air  that  impelled  it,  the  force  of 
which  decreased  as  it  advanced  upwards, 
or  the  cloud  itself  being  pressed  back  again 
by  its  own  weight,  expanded  in  the  manner 
I  have  mentioned;  it  appeared  sometimes 
bright  and  sometimes  dark  and  spotted,  ac- 
cording as  it  was  either  more  or  less  impreg- 
nated with  earth  and  cinders.  This  phe- 
nomenon seemed  to  a  man  of  such  learning 
and  research  as  my  uncle  extraordinary  and 
worth  further  looking  into.  He  ordered  a 
light  vessel  to  be  got  ready,  and  gave  me 
leave,  if  I  liked,  to  accompany  him.  I  said 
I  had  rather  go  on  with  my  work;  and  it 
so  happened  he  had  himself  given  me  some- 
thing to  write  out.  As  he  was  coming  out 
of  the  house,  he  received  a  note  from  Rec- 
tina,  the  wife  of  Bassus,  who  was  in  the  ut- 
most alarm  at  the  imminent  danger  which 
threatened  her;  for  her  villa  lying  at  the 
foot  of  Mount  Vesuvius,  there  was  no  way 
of  escape  but  by  sea;  she  earnestly  entreated 
him  therefore  to  come  to  her  assistance.  He 

160 


Pliny  the  Elder 

accordingly  changed  his  first  intention,  and 
what  he  had  begun  from  a  philosophical, 
he  now  carried  out  in  a  noble  and  generous, 
spirit.  He  ordered  the  galleys  to  put  to  sea, 
and  went  himself  on  board  with  an  inten- 
tion of  assisting  not  only  Rectina,  but  the 
several  other  towns  which  lay  thickly  strewn 
along  that  beautiful  coast.  Hastening  then 
to  the  place  from  whence  others  fled  with  the 
utmost  terror,  he  steered  his  course  direct 
to  the  point  of  danger,  and  with  so  much 
calmness  and  presence  of  mind  as  to  be  able 
to  make  and  dictate  his  observations  upon 
the  motion  and  all  the  phenomena  of  that 
dreadful  scene.  He  was  now  so  close  to 
the  mountain  that  the  cinders,  which  grew 
thicker  and  hotter  the  nearer  he  approached, 
fell  into  the  ships,  together  with  pumice- 
stones  and  black  pieces  of  burning  rock: 
they  were  in  danger,  too,  not  only  of  being 
aground  by  the  sudden  retreat  of  the  sea, 
but  also  from  the  vast  fragments  which 
rolled  down  from  the  mountain  and  ob- 
structed all  the  shore.  Here  he  stopped  to 
consider  whether  he  should  turn  back  again; 
to  which  the  pilot  advising  him,  '  Fortune/ 
said  he,  '  favours  the  brave ;  steer  to  where 
Pomponianus  is.'  Pomponianus  was  then  at 

161 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Stabiae  [modern  Castellamare],  separated  by 
a  bay,  which  the  sea,  after  several  insensi- 
ble windings,  forms  with  the  shore.  He  had 
already  sent  his  baggage  on  board;  for 
though  he  was  not  at  that  time  in  actual 
danger,  yet  being  within  sight  of  it,  and 
indeed  extremely  near,  if  it  should  in  the 
least  increase,  he  was  determined  to  put  to 
sea  as  soon  as  the  wind,  which  was  blowing 
dead  inshore,  should  go  down.  It  was  fa- 
vourable, however,  for  carrying  my  uncle 
to  Pomponianus,  whom  he  found  in  the 
greatest  consternation:  he  embraced  him 
tenderly,  encouraging  and  urging  him  to 
keep  up  his  spirits,  and,  the  more  effectually 
to  soothe  his  fears  by  seeming  unconcerned 
himself,  ordered  a  bath  to  be  got  ready,  and 
then,  after  having  bathed,  sat  down  to  sup- 
per with  great  cheerfulness,  or  at  least  (what 
is  just  as  heroic)  with  every  appearance  of 
it.  Meanwhile  broad  flames  shone  out  in 
several  places  from  Mount  Vesuvius,  which 
the  darkness  of  night  contributed  to  render 
still  brighter  and  clearer." 

The  account  goes  on  to  state  that  Pliny 
then  went  to  bed  and  slept  soundly,  until 
the  stones  and  ashes  were  so  deep  that  a 
decision  had  to  be  taken  to  escape.  The 

162 


Pliny  the  Younger 

party  finally  decided  to  tie  pillows  over 
their  heads  and  ventured  forth,  but  down 
at  the  shore  they  found  the  waves  still  run- 
ning too  high  to  permit  them  to  embark. 
There  Pliny  lay  down  upon  a  sail-cloth. 
At  this  juncture  flames,  preceded  by  a  strong 
whiff  of  sulphur,  dispersed  the  party,  and 
Pliny  was  apparently  suffocated  by  the  nox- 
ious fumes. 

In  his  other  letter  to  Tacitus,  Pliny  the 
Younger  gives  a  dramatic  recital  of  his  own 
feelings  and  those  of  his  mother  at  Misenum, 
while  waiting  in  vain  for  his  uncle's  return, 
and  wandering  about  in  the  phenomenal 
darkness.  The  mother  and  son  both  fortu- 
nately escaped  unhurt. 

Pliny  the  Younger 

As  revealed  by  his  "  Letters "  and  by  the 
facts  of  his  career,  the  younger  Pliny  was 
an  excellent  type  of  a  public-spirited  Roman 
gentleman,  having  considerable  administra- 
tive and  literary  talent.  Like  his  uncle,  he 
belonged  to  the  nobility  of  the  Roman  Co- 
mum  (Como),  where  he  was  born  in  61  or 
62  A.  D.  His  father  died  while  he  was  still 
a  boy,  and  he  was  placed  under  the  guardi- 

163 


The  Italian  Lakes 

anship  of  Verginius  Rufus.  He  was  sent  to 
Rome  to  finish  his  studies ;  became  a  pleader 
in  the  Roman  courts;  and  rose  steadily  in 
the  service  of  the  state,  through  various 
positions  of  trust  and  preferment.  He  was 
made  a  member  of  the  Senate,  and  by  steady 
advancement  a  military  tribune,  a  quaestor, 
prastor,  praefect,  and  consul.  He  saw  serv- 
ice in  Syria  and  as  imperial  legate  in  Bi- 
thynia  and  Pontica.  His  famous  book  of 
"  Letters "  consists  of  a  selection  which  he 
made  from  his  correspondence  with  his 
friends.  Besides  the  letters  to  Tacitus  already 
mentioned,  unique  value  attaches  to  Pliny's 
correspondence  with  his  friend,  the  Emperor 
Trajan,  upon  the  subject  of  the  Christians. 
This  correspondence  is  considered  of  para- 
mount value  as  historic  evidence  of  the  con- 
dition of  the  Christians  toward  the  end  of 
the  first  century  and  of  the  peculiar  official 
Roman  point  of  view  toward  a  supposedly 
incomprehensible  sect  which  was  making 
great  headway.  Pliny's  inquiry  of  Trajan 
and  the  latter's  reply  are  here  appended. 
In  Book  x.,  97,  we  read : 

"  It  is  my  invariable  rule,  sir,  to  refer  to 
you  in  all  matters  where  I  feel  doubtful; 
for  who  is  more  capable  of  removing  my 

164 


Pliny  the  Younger 

scruples,  or  informing  my  ignorance?  Hav- 
ing never  been  present  at  any  trials  concern- 
ing those  who  profess  Christianity,  I  am 
unacquainted  not  only  with  the  nature  of 
their  crimes,  or  the  measure  of  their  punish- 
ment, but  how  far  it  is  proper  to  enter  into 
an  examination  concerning  them.  Whether, 
therefore,  any  difference  is  usually  made 
with  respect  to  ages,  or  no  distinction  is  to 
be  made  between  the  young  and  the  adult; 
whether  repentance  entitles  them  to  a  par- 
don, or,  if  a  man  has  been  once  a  Christian, 
it  avails  nothing  to  desist  from  his  error; 
whether  the  very  profession  of  Christianity, 
unattended  with  any  criminal  act,  or  only 
the  crimes  themselves  inherent  in  the  pro- 
fession are  punishable;  on  all  these  points 
I  am  in  great  doubt.  In  the  meanwhile,  the 
method  I  have  observed  toward  those  who 
have  been  brought  before  me  as  Christians 
is  this:  I  asked  them  whether  they  were 
Christians;  if  they  admitted  it,  I  repeated 
the  question  twice,  and  threatened  them  with 
punishment;  if  they  persisted,  I  ordered 
them  to  be  at  once  punished:  for  I  was  per- 
suaded, whatever  the  nature  of  their  opinions 
might  be,  a  contumacious  and  inflexible  ob- 
stinacy certainly  deserved  correction.  There 

165 


The  Italian  Lakes 

were  others  also  brought  before  me  possessed 
with  the  same  infatuation,  but  being  Roman 
citizens,  I  directed  them  to  be  sent  to  Rome. 
But  this  crime  spreading  (as  is  usually  the 
case)  while  it  was  actually  under  prosecu- 
tion, several  instances  of  the  same  nature 
occurred.  An  anonymous  information  was 
laid  before  me,  containing  a  charge  against 
several  persons,  who  upon  examination  de- 
nied they  were  Christians,  or  had  ever  been 
so.  They  repeated  after  me  an  invocation 
to  the  gods,  and  offered  religious  rites  with 
wine  and  incense  before  your  statue  (which 
for  that  purpose  I  had  ordered  to  be  brought, 
together  with  those  of  the  gods),  and  even 
reviled  the  name  of  Christ:  whereas  there 
is  no  forcing,  it  is  said,  those  who  are  really 
Christians  into  any  of  these  compliances.  I 
thought  it  proper  to  discharge  them.  Some 
among  those  who  were  accused  by  a  witness 
in  person  at  first  confessed  themselves  Chris- 
tians, but  immediately  after  denied  it.  The 
rest  owned  indeed  that  they  had  been  of 
that  number  formerly,  but  had  now  (some 
above  three,  others  more,  and  a  few  above 
twenty  years)  renounced  that  error.  They 
also  worshipped  your  statue  and  the  image 
of  the  gods,  uttering  imprecations  at  the 

166 


Pliny  the  Younger 

same  time  against  the  name  of  Christ.  They 
affirmed  the  whole  of  their  guilt,  or  their 
error,  was  that  they  met  on  a  stated  day 
before  it  was  light,  and  addressed  a  form 
of  prayer  to  Christ,  as  to  a  divinity,  bind- 
ing themselves  by  a  solemn  oath,  not  for  the 
purpose  of  any  wicked  design,  but  never  to 
commit  any  fraud,  theft,  or  adultery,  never 
to  falsify  their  word,  nor  deny  a  trust  when 
they  should  be  called  upon  to  deliver  it  up; 
after  which  it  was  their  custom  to  separate, 
and  then  reassemble,  to  eat  in  common  a 
harmless  meal.  From  this  custom,  however, 
they  desisted  after  the  publication  of  my 
edict,  by  which,  according  to  your  com- 
mands, I  forbade  the  meeting  of  any  assem- 
blies. After  receiving  this  account,  I  judged 
it  so  much  the  more  necessary  to  endeavour 
to  extort  the  real  truth,  by  putting  two  fe- 
male slaves  to  the  torture,  who  were  said  to 
officiate  in  their  religious  rites;  but  all  I 
could  discover  was  evidence  of  an  absurd 
and  extravagant  superstition.  I  deemed  it 
expedient,  therefore,  to  adjourn  all  further 
proceedings,  in  order  to  consult  you.  For 
it  appears  to  be  a  matter  highly  deserving 
your  consideration,  more  especially  as  great 
numbers  must  be  involved  in  the  danger  of 

167 


The  Italian  Lakes 

those  prosecutions,  which  have  already  ex- 
tended, and  are  still  likely  to  extend,  to  per- 
sons of  all  ranks  and  ages,  and  even  of  both 
sexes.  In  fact,  this  contagious  superstition 
is  not  confined  to  the  cities  only,  but  has 
spread  its  infection  among  the  neighbouring 
villages  and  country.  Nevertheless,  it  still 
seems  possible  to  restrain  its  progress.  The 
temples,  at  least,  which  were  once  almost  de- 
serted, begin  now  to  be  frequented;  and  the 
sacred  rites,  after  a  long  intermission,  are 
again  revived;  while  there  is  a  general  de- 
mand for  victims,  which  till  lately  found 
very  few  purchasers.  From  all  this  it  is 
easy  to  conjecture  what  numbers  might  be 
reclaimed  if  a  general  pardon  were  granted 
to  those  who  shall  repent  of  their  error." 
To  this  letter  Trajan  replied,  Book  x.,  98 : 
"  You  have  adopted  the  right  course,  my 
dearest  Secundus,  in  investigating  the  charges 
against  the  Christians  who  were  brought  be- 
fore you.  It  is  not  possible  to  lay  down  any 
general  rule  for  all  such  cases.  Do  not  go 
out  of  your  way  to  look  for  them.  If  indeed 
they  should  be  brought  before  you,  and  the 
crime  is  proved,  they  must  be  punished; 
with  the  restriction,  however,  that  where  the 
party  denies  he  is  a  Christian,  and  shall 

168 


Pliny  the  Younger 

make  it  evident  that  he  is  not,  by  invoking 
our  gods,  let  him  (notwithstanding  any 
former  suspicion)  be  pardoned  upon  his 
repentance.  Anonymous  informations  ought 
not  to  be  received  in  any  sort  of  prosecution. 
It  is  introducing  a  very  dangerous  precedent, 
and  is  quite  foreign  to  the  spirit  of  our  age." 

Pliny  the  Younger  inherited  considerable 
property  on  and  near  Lake  Como,  both  from 
his  father's  and  mother's  families.  In  Book 
ix.,  7,  of  his  "  Letters "  he  writes  to  Ro- 
manus: 

"  I  have  several  villas  upon  the  borders 
of  this  lake,  but  there  are  two  particularly 
in  which,  as  I  take  most  delight,  so  they  give 
me  most  employment.  They  are  both  sit- 
uated like  those  at  Baiae:  one  of  them  stands 
upon  a  rock,  and  overlooks  the  lake,  the 
other  actually  touches  it.  The  first,  sup- 
ported as  it  were  by  the  lofty  buskin,  I  call 
my  tragic;  the  other,  as  resting  upon  the 
humble  sock,  my  comic  villa.  Each  has  its 
own  peculiar  charm,  recommending  it  to 
its  possessor  so  much  more  on  account  of 
this  very  difference.  The  former  commands 
a  wider,  the  latter  enjoys  a  nearer  view  of 
the  lake.  One,  by  a  gentle  curve,  embraces 
a  little  bay;  the  other,  being  built  upon  a 

169 


The  Italian  Lakes 

greater  height,  forms  two.  Here  you  have 
a  strait  walk  extending  itself  along  the  banks 
of  the  lake;  there  a  spacious  terrace  that 
falls  by  a  gentle  descent  toward  it.  The 
former  does  not  feel  the  force  of  the  waves; 
the  latter  breaks  them;  from  that  you  see 
the  fishing-vessels;  from  this  you  may  fish 
yourself,  and  throw  your  line  out  of  your 
room,  and  almost  from  your  bed,  as  from  off 
a  boat.  It  is  the  beauties,  therefore,  these 
agreeable  villas  possess  that  tempt  me  to  add 
to  them  those  which  are  wanting." 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  find 
the  sites  of  these  two  villas  of  Pliny,  play- 
fully compared  to  the  lofty  and  low  cothur- 
nus and  soccus  of  the  tragic  and  comic  actors 
respectively.  A  reasonable  inference,  from 
the  somewhat  vague  description  given  above, 
would  place  the  "  Tragedy  "  at  Bellagio  and 
the  "  Comedy "  at  Lenno,  on  the  opposite 
shore,  south  of  Tremezzo.  Pliny  also  owned 
a  large  estate  in  Etruria,  a  suburban  villa 
near  Rome,  and  others  at  Tusculum,  Tibur, 
and  Praeneste.  His  acts  of  munificence  and 
liberality  toward  his  native  city  and  his 
friends  were  remarkable.  It  is  calculated 
that  he  spent  no  less  than  1,600,000  sesterces 
on  Como  for  a  school,  a  public  library,  and 

170 


Alessandro  Volta 

public  baths,  and  various  charitable  bequests, 
also  for  the  maintenance  of  boys  and  girls 
and  of  a  hundred  of  his  freedmen.  In  Book 
viii.,  22,  Pliny  announces  the  following 
motto  for  himself,  worthy  of  the  Christians 
whom  he  persecuted :  "  To  pardon  others  as 
if  one  daily  needed  pardon  himself." 

Alessandro  Volta 

Among  Como  celebrities  mention  must 
also  be  made  of  the  man  from  whose  name 
the  electrical  term  volt  has  been  derived. 
Alessandro  Volta  is  now  generally  conceded 
to  have  been  the  originator  of  the  electric 
pile.  He  is  credited  with  having  constructed 
the  first  contrivance  by  which  electrical 
energy  could  be  measured  in  definite  units. 
Como  has  erected  a  statue  to  him  and  named 
a  piazza,  in  his  honour. 

In  May  of  1899  an  electrical  exhibition 
was  held  in  Como  to  celebrate  his  discovery. 
Fire,  however,  swept  over  the  entire  exhibi- 
tion and  destroyed  almost  all  the  souvenirs 
of  his  career,  which  had  been  preserved  up 
to  that  time.  Electrical  apparatus  and  ma- 
chinery from  many  countries  had  been  dis- 
played. There  had  been  a  competition  of 

171 


The  Italian  Lakes 

telegraphers.  In  connection  with  the  cele- 
bration the  Italian  and  especially  the  Como 
silk  industry  had  been  largely  represented, 
and  electric  launches  and  boats  had  consti- 
tuted a  prominent  feature  of  the  exhibition. 

Alessandro  Volta  was  born  in  Como.  In 
1774  he  was  made  professor  of  physics  in 
the  gymnasium  of  his  native  city.  He  visited 
Switzerland  and  became  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  De  Saussure.  Then  he  was 
appointed  to  the  chair  of  physics  in  the  uni- 
versity of  Pavia.  He  later  travelled  through 
France,  Germany,  Holland,  and  England, 
and  met  nearly  all  the  celebrities  of  that  day 
in  natural  science.  In  1791  he  received  the 
Copley  medal  of  the  Royal  Society,  and  his 
electric  pile  was  first  described  by  him  in 
a  letter  to  Sir  G.  Banks,  the  president  of  that 
society  in  1800.  Honours  were  showered 
upon  him.  In  1801  Napoleon  I.  called  him 
to  Paris  and  a  medal  was  struck  in  his  hon- 
our. He  was  created  a  Senator  of  the  King- 
dom of  Lombardy.  In  1815  the  Emperor 
of  Austria  made  him  director  of  the  philo- 
sophical faculty  of  Padua.  In  1819  he  with- 
drew to  his  native  city  of  Como  and  settled 
down  there  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

Volta  may  be  said  to  have  carried  forward 
172 


Alessandro  Volt  a 

the  investigations  of  Benjamin  Franklin. 
He  followed  closely  the  experiments  of  Gal- 
vani,  and  then  showed  that  so-called  "  gal- 
vanism "  and  electricity  were  identical.  He 
also  corresponded  with  Priestley,  and  made 
experiments  before  Lavoisier  and  Laplace 
in  Paris. 


173 


CHAPTER   XVI 

SILKWORMS  AND  SILK  -  LOOMS 

WHOEVER  skirts  the  shores  of  the  Italian 
lakes,  or  follows  the  fringe  of  the  Alps,  where 
their  outposts  touch  the  Italian  plain,  is  sure 
to  come  upon  evidences  of  a  great  industry, 
which  means  much  to  the  economic  life  of 
the  peninsular  kingdom. 

As  we  journey  from  Piedmont  through 
Lombardy  to  Venetia,  and  watch  the  fertile 
expanses  from  the  windows  of  a  train  or  a 
carriage,  the  picture  of  trees  planted  in  par- 
allel lines  across  the  fields  keeps  repeating 
itself  acre  by  acre,  mile  after  mile.  If  the 
season  be  that  of  June  or  early  July,  men 
will  be  detected  perched  in  these  trees,  care- 
fully stripping  them  of  their  leaves  and  fill- 
ing long  sacks  with  them.  These  are  mul- 
berry-trees, and  their  leaves  are  for  the  feed- 
ing of  the  voracious  silkworms,  which  make 
the  cocoons  from  which  in  turn  the  raw  silk 

174 


Silkworms  and  Silk-looms 

is  reeled  off,  so  that  silk  stuffs  may  be  woven 
with  the  strong  lustrous  thread. 

No  sooner  have  the  trees  been  stripped 
of  their  leaves  than  the  bare  branches  are 
pruned  and  trimmed  to  a  nicety  and  the 
ground  cultivated  and  fertilized.  The  farm- 
ers give  these  trees  the  same  care  which 
they  would  bestow  on  their  choicest  orchard 
trees.  Indeed  there  are  regular  mulberry- 
tree  nurseries  in  some  parts  of  Italy,  the 
leaves  being  available  for  feeding  the  silk- 
worms the  fourth  year  after  transplantation. 
The  mulberry-tree  is  of  slow  growth  and 
lives  to  a  great  age. 

If  you  step  into  one  of  the  cottages,  where 
the  worms  are  being  fed  into  cocoons,  you 
will  find  wide  shelves  filled  with  the  large 
worms  averaging  about  two  inches  in  length. 
The  mulberry  leaves  are  thrown  down  upon 
the  worms,  and  they  work  their  way  through, 
eating  and  scrunching  the  crisp  green.  If 
you  put  your  ear  to  the  shelf,  the  sound  of 
the  feeding  is  like  that  of  the  gentle  patter- 
ing of  rain  upon  a  tin  roof.  The  worms  feed 
without  halt  for  a  certain  number  of  days, 
then  stop  for  a  short  interval,  and  then  re- 
sume their  feeding  again.  Having  passed 
through  these  regular  periods  of  activity 


The  Italian  Lakes 

and  inactivity,  the  worms  grow  yellowish  in 
colour,  and  are  then  ready  to  climb  into  the 
dried  branches  which  are  set  up  at  the  back 
of  the  shelves.  This  miniature  forest  is 
called  technically  the  boscho.  Here  the 
worms  proceed  to  fasten  themselves  to  the 
branches  by  a  network  of  silk  thread,  and 
then  to  wind  the  thread  about  them  with  a 
peculiar  swaying  and  turning  motion  of  the 
head.  The  result  is  to  form  cocoons  com- 
pletely hiding  the  worms.  The  colour  of 
the  cocoon  is  generally  rich  salmon,  and  as 
the  traveller  sees  these  wares,  packed  in 
crates  and  being  carted  over  country  roads, 
or  sorted  in  great  baskets  at  the  silk  markets 
of  the  cities,  they  present  a  peculiar  luminous 
brilliancy  which  stands  out  vividly  in  the 
recollection.  In  course  of  time  the  worm, 
wrapped  within  the  cocoon,  if  left  to  its 
own  sweet  will,  would  eat  its  way  out  again 
and  emerge  as  a  butterfly.  But  for  the  pur- 
poses of  silk  culture,  this  time  must  not  be 
awaited.  The  cocoon  is  placed  in  water  of 
a  temperature  above  140°  F.,  and  the  thread 
is  reeled  off  into  skeins  of  raw  silk.  There 
is  but  one  crop  of  cocoons  a  year,  and  it  is 
collected  generally  in  June  and  during  the 
first  part  of  July. 

176 


Silkworms  and  Silk-looms 

The  reeling  is  done  by  hand  labour,  some- 
times in  the  cottages,  but  now  generally  in 
large  establishments.  The  unwinding  of  the 
single  thread  from  the  cocoon  demands  such 
manual  dexterity  and  delicacy  of  touch  that 
the  work  is  done  by  women  and  girls  only, 
the  men  and  boys  not  being  employed  in  this 
branch  of  sericulture.  At  this  writing,  all 
attempts  to  substitute  mechanical  devices  for 
hand  labour  in  this  particular  process  are 
said  to  have  failed.  It  is  calculated  that  it 
takes  from  eleven  to  twelve  pounds  of  fresh 
cocoons  to  make  one  pound  of  raw  silk. 

Italy  is  the  third  in  the  list  of  silk-pro- 
ducing countries,  China  and  Japan  alone  ex- 
ceeding her  in  production.  As  an  indica- 
tion of  the  extent  to  which  this  industry  has 
grown  in  Italy,  it  may  be  stated  that  during 
recent  years  the  annual  production  has  been 
over  twelve  million  pounds  of  raw  silk, 
valued  at  over  $46,000,000.  About  a  million 
and  a  half  of  persons  are  engaged  in  one  way 
or  another  in  the  various  branches  of  silk 
industry.  Piedmont  has  the  reputation  of 
raising  the  largest  numbers  of  cocoons,  but 
Milan  in  Lombardy  is  the  centre  of  the  man- 
ufacturing side  of  sericulture,  and  Como  has 


177 


The  Italian  Lakes 

proved  itself  to  be  a  mainstay  of  the  industry 
during  times  of  storm  and  stress. 

The  history  of  sericulture  in  Italy  is  full 
of  interest.  The  industry  is  as  old  as  the 
period  of  Roger  II.,  King  of  the  Two  Sici- 
lies. Already  in  the  thirteenth  century  Italy 
was  able  to  compete  successfully  with  Spain 
and  the  Levant.  The  industry  reached  the 
climax  of  its  perfection  and  importance  dur- 
ing the  heyday  of  civic  life  in  the  Italian 
Republics,  but  it  declined  with  the  conquest 
of  Italy  by  foreigners.  The  experts  and 
artisans  largely  emigrated  to  other  Euro- 
pean countries,  thus  transplanting  their 
knowledge  to  foreign  fields,  which  soon  en- 
tered into  competition  with  the  Italian  pro- 
ducers. As  late  as  1860  the  silk  industry 
of  Italy,  as  a  whole,  was  still  at  a  low  ebb 
and  had  not  yet  felt  the  reviving  touch  of 
modern  enterprise.  But  it  is  interesting  to 
know  that  from  the  time  of  its  introduction 
into  Como,  at  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  the  silk  industry  was  never  allowed 
to  die  out  entirely  in  that  city,  but  was  con- 
stantly kept  alive  through  varying  vicissi- 
tudes of  internecine  war  and  foreign  con- 
quest and  periods  of  depression  and  lassitude. 
A  certain  Pietro  Boldoni  of  Bellano  on  Lake 


Silkworms  and  Silk-looms 

Como  was  the  first  to  establish  the  silk  indus- 
try in  the  city  of  Como  in  the  year  1510. 
Up  to  that  time  the  woollen  industry  had 
flourished  there,  but  after  that  silk  gradually 
forged  ahead.  At  the  exposition,  held  in 
Como  in  1899  to  celebrate  Volta's  discov- 
ery of  the  electric  pile,  the  whole  of  Europe 
was  able  to  admire  the  wonderful  silks  which 
Como  is  now  able  to  manufacture. 

The  country  round  about  is  permeated 
with  the  various  activities  demanded  by  the 
industry,  exemplified  from  mulberry-trees  to 
finished  dress  goods.  All  the  intermediate 
stages  are  there  for  inspection.  Landowner, 
peasant,  labourer,  and  manufacturer,  men, 
women,  and  children,  are  knit  together  as 
closely  as  one  of  their  own  fabrics  in  a  com- 
mon enterprise  of  absorbing  interest  and 
immense  range.  The  traveller  cannot  fail 
to  wish  for  this  whole  region  a  just  distribu- 
tion of  profits,  and  is  spurred  to  do  his  share 
in  furthering  the  welfare  of  all  by  taking 
a  kindly  interest  in  land  and  people. 


179 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE  COSTUME  OF  THE  BRIANZA 

THE  traveller  cannot  be  long  in  Lombardy 
before  his  attention  is  attracted  to  the  singu- 
larly picturesque  costume  of  the  Brianza. 
It  is  generally  worn  in  its  full  richness  by 
nurses  in  the  wealthier  families,  and  so  is 
seen  almost  as  often  in  the  cities  as  in  the 
Brianza  itself,  whence  these  nurses  mostly 
come,  and  where  it  is  now  mostly  a  holiday 
affair. 

Imagine  a  head-dress  of  silver  needles  so 
placed  in  the  hair  as  to  fashion  an  aureole; 
let  the  ears  be  weighted  with  massive  rings, 
and  a  kerchief  decorated  with  a  large  flower 
pattern  be  thrown  over  the  shoulders,  and 
it  is  easy  to  see  that  the  costume  possesses 
properties  of  great  promise  and  high  colour. 
The  peasant  women  add  to  this  costume  the 
pretty  little  wooden  slippers  that  click  and 
clatter  over  the  cobbled  country  lanes.  Some 

180 


THE   COSTUME   OF    THE   BR1ANZA 


The  Costume  of  the  Brianza 

forty  or  fifty  years  ago  the  peasant  women 
all  wore  the  full  skirt,  black  bodice,  and 
short  sleeves,  and  the  piece  of  cloth  which 
crossed  the  foot  to  keep  on  the  slipper  was 
embroidered.  Nor  was  the  silver  aureole 
ever  missed  from  a  married  woman's  head. 
To-day  the  costume  is  yielding  rapidly  to 
the  advance  of  world  uniformity  in  fashions. 
The  silver  needles  are  called  collectively 
I'argento;  they  are  generally  a  present  from 
the  groom  to  the  bride,  and  the  simpler  ones 
cost  about  forty-five  to  fifty  lire. 

So  much  time  and  skill  are  required  in 
fitting  the  needles  into  the  strands  of  hair 
that  only  the  big  horizontal  needles  are  taken 
off  at  night,  the  rest  being  worn  even  in 
sleep,  much  as  the  Japanese  women  are  said 
to  treat  their  elaborate  head-dresses.  If  the 
traveller  in  the  Brianza  exclaims  at  the 
seeming  inconvenience  of  this  method  of 
treating  the  hair,  he  is  assured  that  the 
women  need  have  their  hair  done  up  only 
once  a  week. 

The  Brianza  may  be  described  in  a  gen- 
eral way  as  that  triangular-shaped  region 
included  between  the  Como  and  Lecco  arms 
of  Lake  Como.  It  is  a  district  of  special 
charm,  greatly  favoured  by  situation  and 

181 


The  Italian  Lakes 

fertility,  rich  in  cultivated  stretches,  and 
mounting  to  forests  and  hill  pastures.  It 
is  the  abiding-place  of  cattle,  horses,  and 
sheep,  and  its  lowlands  are  graced  by  several 
small  lakes,  Annone,  Pusiano,  Alserio,  Se- 
grino,  and  Montorfano.  The  great  painter 
Segantini,  to  whom  a  special  chapter  has 
been  assigned  in  this  book,  executed  some 
of  his  earliest  work  in  this  region.  The  silk 
industry  has  its  mulberry-trees  and  factories 
profusely  scattered  in  the  Brianza. 

The  small  town  of  Erba  is  nearly  in  the 
geographical  centre  of  the  Brianza,  about 
midway  between  the  cities  of  Como  and 
Lecco,  but  also  directly  accessible  from  Milan 
by  rail,  and  by  carriage  road  from  Bellagio, 
at  the  tip  of  the  triangle.  This  latter  drive, 
from  Erba  to  Bellagio  by  way  of  Canzo  and 
Civenna,  is  among  the  most  delightful  in  the 
entire  region  of  the  Italian  lakes;  from  Ci- 
venna it  is  full  of  extended  views  over  the 
lake  arms  of  Lecco  and  Como,  the  smiling 
Tremezzina,  and  off  to  the  sky-line  near 
Chiavenna,  where  stand  the  dark  bulwarks 
.of  the  Engadine  acting  as  pedestals  for  the 
silver  statues  of  the  North. 

From  Como  the  art  lover  should  not  fail 
to  make  an  excursion  to  Saronno,  about  half- 

182 


The  Costume  of  the  Brianza 

way  to  Milan  by  rail.  At  Saronno  the 
best  of  the  work  of  Luini  and  Gaudenzio 
Ferrari  is  to  be  seen  in  the  pilgrimage 
church. 


183 


UP  THE  LAKE  OF  COMO 

From  Co  mo  to  Bell  agio 

A  GAY  Italian  flag  flutters  expectantly  at 
the  stern  of  the  saloon  steamer,  which  is 
moored  to  the  dock  and  seems  impatient  to 
be  off,  —  to  round  the  little  jetty  and  be  out 
of  the  harbour.  Once  in  awhile  the  boat's 
whistle  blows  or  the  machinery  gives  a  sud- 
den turn  and  churns  the  blue  water  into 
white,  like  a  restive  steed  pawing  the  ground 
and  champing  the  bit. 

These  Como  boats  have  an  air  of  special 
fitness  and  importance.  They  are  altogether 
the  best  of  any  to  be  found  on  the  Italian 
lakes.  Indeed  they  are  no  mere  pleasure 
craft,  designed  for  picnics  on  summer  days. 
There  is  nothing  amateurish  about  them. 
They  mean  business  and  they  look  it,  for 
they  really  serve  as  the  regular  means  of 
communication  between  almost  all  points 

184 


Up  the  Lake  of  Como 

on  the  lake.  Without  them  many  a  village 
would  be  dependent  on  some  narrow  bridle- 
path for  its  only  connection  with  the  out- 
side world.  It  is  a  distinctive  charm  of  Lake 
Como  that  whole  stretches  of  its  shores  seem 
almost  cut  off  from  landward  approach,  and 
must  turn  to  water  transportation  for  their 
chief  traffic. 

These  considerations  add  special  bustle 
and  activity  to  the  coming  and  going  of  the 
second-class  passengers  who  crowd  the  lower 
deck.  These  people  act  as  though  they  were 
going  on  an  ocean  voyage,  although  they  are 
only  bound  up  the  lake  to  their  homes  in 
various  little  lakeside  and  mountain  nests. 
The  farewells  are  melodramatic,  the  last 
messages  to  friends  on  the  shore  are  shrill 
with  intensity.  Considerable  freight  also  is 
carried  at  the  bow  and  along  the  sides. 
Probably  it  is  this  freight  which  frequently 
interferes  with  the  schedule  time  of  these 
boats. 

As  we  take  our  places  on  the  saloon-deck, 
and  look  about  us  upon  the  unique  scenery, 
we  wonder  where  the  steamboat  is  going  to 
find  an  outlet  among  the  converging  hills 
for  its  trip  up  the  lake,  to  explore  the  famous 
windings  of  Lake  Como,  unravel  its  sur- 

185 


The  Italian  Lakes 

prises,  and  take  us  to  bask  in  its  open  bays. 
The  breeze,  blowing  through  the  gaps,  seems 
to  come  from  pretty  much  all  points  of  the 
compass  at  once. 

Among  the  spectators  on  shore,  watching 
the  departure,  stands  a  Brianza  nurse  with 
baby  in  arms,  a  silver  aureole  about  her 
head.  Hotel  porters,  clad  in  the  vivid  green 
aprons  of  their  profession,  hurry  up  with 
baggage  or  loiter  near  by  for  their  fees, 
busy  about  nothing.  Omnibuses  full  of  tour- 
ists arrive  at  the  landing.  Some  belated 
peasants  scurry  aboard,  carrying  nondescript 
linen  bags  containing  their  all  of  worldly 
goods.  There  are  some  last  violent  gesticu- 
lations to  friends  on  shore,  the  whistle  blows 
a  final  blast,  the  gangplank  rattles,  and  the 
boat  moves  off  dramatically  and  proudly  for 
its  superb  journey  upon  the  lake  waters, 
which  are  now  glittering  joyously  tinder  the 
action  of  sun  and  breeze. 

The  extraordinary  variety  of  the  scenery 
on  Lake  Como,  which,  after  all,  is  only  some 
thirty  miles  in  length,  almost  passes  belief. 
It  is  theatrical  in  the  sense  that  one  situation 
develops  surprises  from  another.  Every  cor- 
ner reveals  sudden  vistas,  every  valley  that 
finds  its  way  to  the  water's  edge  opens  up 

186 


A   PEASANT    WOMAN    OF    LAKE    COMO 


Up  the  Lake  of  Como 

a  new  world.  The  tropical  touch  of  Italy 
reaches  out  for  the  Alps.  The  Lake  of 
Como  is  at  the  point  of  contact.  Its  waters 
of  shifting  colours  reflect  flat-topped  houses 
which  might  be  in  Greece  or  in  some  Ori- 
ental country,  and  at  the  same  time  these 
waters  also  duplicate  the  lofty  peaks  of  sum- 
mer snow.  North  and  south  blend  in  an 
atmosphere  of  limpid  balm  freshened  with 
the  breath  from  the  mountains. 

The  moment  the  boat  has  found  its  way 
out  of  the  basin  of  Como,  beyond  the  Punta 
di  Geno,  a  view  never  to  be  forgotten  leaps 
into  sight.  You  are  ready  to  exclaim  that 
there  is  only  one  Lake  of  Como  after  all. 
If  at  that  moment  you  were  asked  to  pick 
your  choice  among  the  Italian  lakes,  no  mat- 
ter how  impartial  you  might  wish  to  be, 
one  look  at  the  shores  lined  with  villas,  the 
villages  clustering  in  horizontal  lines  on 
either  side,  the  headland  just  ahead  thick 
with  dwellings,  the  many  tints  on  house 
walls,  the  gardens,  the  mountain  back- 
grounds, the  colour,  and  the  atmosphere 
would  doubtless  quickly  decide  you  to  break 
your  reserve  and  vote  for  Como.  But  it  is 
not  necessary  to  compare,  sufficient  is  it  to 


187 


The  Italian  Lakes 

enjoy  what  there  is  where  we  are.  Then  let 
us  see  how  matters  stand. 

Many  villas  succeed  each  other  on  either 
shore,  converting  the  outskirts  of  Como  into 
veritable  parks.  On  the  western  shore  the 
suburb  of  San  Giorgio  is  seen  to  give  place 
to  the  famous  Villa  dell'  Olmo,  the  princely 
property  of  Duke  Visconti-Modrone.  It  is 
generally  conceded  to  have  been  built  upon 
the  site  of  a  Roman  villa  which  belonged 
to  Caninius  Rufus,  friend  of  Pliny  the 
Younger.  Its  beautiful  park  is  open  to  vis- 
itors. 

At  Cernobbio  there  is  the  famous  Villa 
d'Este,  now  turned  into  a  hotel.  The  re- 
markable gardens,  cascades,  hillside  forti- 
fications, and  especially  the  noble  forest  at 
the  back,  are  full  of  interest.  The  place  has 
kept  much  of  its  original  architecture  and 
ancient  woodland  beauty.  Built  in  1568  by 
Cardinal  Gallic,  a  native  of  Cernobbio,  it 
passed  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century  into  the  hands  of  the  unfortunate 
Caroline,  wife  of  George  IV.  of  England, 
who  enlarged  it  and  renamed  it  Villa  d'Este, 
living  there  five  years  and  maintaining  a 
species  of  court. 

As  the  steamer  skirts  the  shore,  the 
188 


Up  the  Lake  of  Como 

glimpses  lengthen  into  a  panorama.  Here  a 
silent  cypress  is  thrown  into  relief  by  light 
green  foliage  behind.  Olive-trees,  almond- 
trees,  and  mulberry-trees  grow  along  the 
terraces,  where  vases  with  brilliant  flowers 
punctuate  the  horizontal  lines.  Ornate  boat- 
houses  and  gay  pavilions  abound.  In  the 
very  exuberance  of  colour-fancy,  some  house 
walls  have  even  been  painted  in  checker- 
board designs  of  yellow  and  black.  A  sky- 
blue  house  also  gladdens  the  scene,  —  it  looks 
as  though  it  had  been  in  the  wash  and  re- 
tained some  of  the  bluing,  —  and  the  mock 
windows  painted  upon  the  houses  are  so 
numerous  that  one  even  begins  to  suspect  the 
genuine  windows  of  being  artificial.  Some 
roofs  are  gray  with  flat  stones,  others  red 
with  tiles. 

Our  steamer  does  not  find  piers  at  every 
station,  but  at  some  places  merely  exchanges 
passengers  and  mails  with  small  boats  that 
dash  up  and  are  cleverly  managed  to  catch 
the  big  steamboat  on  the  fly,  without  making 
it  come  to  a  complete  halt.  At  pretty  little 
Torno  there  are  a  few  moments  of  rest,  while 
bags  of  mulberry  leaves  for  feeding  the  vora- 
cious silkworms  are  trundled  aboard.  At 
this  point  the  character  of  the  lake  is  very 

189 


The  Italian  Lakes 

intimate,  friendly,  and  neighbourly.  A  big 
barge  turned  on  its  side  is  being  repaired 
on  the  shelving  shore.  Another  is  crawling 
along  the  lee  shore  to  escape  a  contrary 
wind.  Peculiar  cockle-shell  boats  with  sharp 
bows  and  white  awnings  crowd  the  shelter 
of  tiny  harbours  and  mysterious  archways. 
Arbours  full  of  dappled  reflected  sunshine 
overlook  the  lake,  and  steps  lead  invitingly 
down  the  walls  to  the  water's  edge. 

Not  far  from  Torno  is  the  large  squarely 
built  Villa  Pliniana  standing  close  to  the 
shore  in  a  solitary  little  bay.  The  actual 
building  was  erected  by  Count  Giovanni 
Anguissola  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  the 
villa  derives  its  name  from  an  intermittent 
spring  which  was  noted  and  described  by 
Pliny  the  Younger  in  a  letter  to  Licinius 
Surra  (Epist.  v.,  7).  The  spring  ebbs  and 
flows  three  times  a  day.  Its  waters  are 
gathered  in  a  species  of  atrium  and  thence 
flow  under  the  villa  into  the  lake.  From 
the  water  one  can  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
cliffs  at  the  back,  of  a  cascade,  of  gardens 
rising  in  terraces,  and  sombre  cypresses 
standing  thickly  about.  The  present  owner 
of  the  villa  is  a  member  of  the  family  of 


190 


Up  the  Lake  of  Como 

Belgiojoso,  a  descendant  of  the  authoress, 
Cristina  Belgiojoso. 

After  the  headland  of  Torrigia  the  lake 
widens.  It  deepens  in  colour  and  the  shores 
rise  higher  on  either  hand.  The  tops  of  the 
mountains  emerge  above  the  timber-line  and 
are  smooth  with  green  pastures,  where  little 
hovering  clouds  timidly  drop  their  waver- 
ing shadows.  Lone  little  villages  lie  white 
and  still  in  rocky  basins  above  the  ravines. 
What  must  life  be  like  up  there  in  those 
eyries  flattened  against  the  mountains? 

At  the  lakeside  hamlet  of  Nesso  there  is 
a  delightful  bit  ready-made  for  the  artist. 
A  few  quaint  houses  have  taken  root  there 
upon  the  precipitous  shore,  among  the  wal- 
nut and  chestnut  trees,  the  cypresses,  and  the 
rich  myrtles  and  trailing  vines.  These 
houses  cluster  in  haphazard  fashion,  where 
they  can  gain  standing-room,  and  a  roman- 
tically inclined  bridle-path  winds  in  and  out 
among  them  along  the  shore.  A  dark  ravine 
cuts  the  hamlet  in  two,  and  from  its  recesses 
a  waterfall  tumbles  boisterously  into  the  lake. 
When  the  bridle-path  in  its  peregrinations 
reaches  the  ravine,  it  leaps  gracefully  over 
the  seething  torrent  from  one  house  to  an- 
other by  a  bridge  of  a  single  span,  and  con- 

191 


The  Italian  Lakes 

tinues  beyond  to  insinuate  itself  in  and  out, 
around  and  through  the  houses  in  the  most 
natural  manner,  as  if  it  had  performed  no 
unusual  feat  at  all.  As  our  boat  passes,  two 
men  idling  on  the  parapet  of  the  bridge  give 
the  lonely  little  place  life  and  further  local 
interest. 

But  larger  prospects  lie  before  us.  As  the 
boat  crosses  from  Nesso  to  Argegno,  the 
greater  splendour  of  Lake  Como  begins  to 
assert  itself  and  proclaim  world-renowned 
beauties.  While  the  view  up  on  high  be- 
comes frankly  alpine,  especially  if  some 
chance  flurry  of  snow  has  recently  touched 
the  mountain-tops;  down  below,  upon  the 
water  level,  in  delicious  contrast  to  the 
rugged  quality  of  the  heights,  the  fertile 
mazes  of  the  Tremezzina  now  reveal  them- 
selves on  the  western  shore,  and  the  eastern 
shore  is  seen  to  draw  down  to  a  point  which 
presently  discloses  itself  as  the  headland  of 
Bellagio.  But  first  the  boat  stops  at  Ar- 
gegno, at  the  entrance  of  the  Val  d'Intelvi. 
White  zigzags  appear  upon  the  mountain 
flank.  They  indicate  the  road  which  leads 
to  Lake  Lugano  and  thus  to  Swiss  soil,  and 
this  road  accounts  for  the  presence  of  cus- 
tom-house officers,  who  lounge  around  the 

192 


Up  the  Lake  of  Como 

landing-place  in  their  uniforms  trimmed 
with  bright  yellow,  and  for  the  officer  who 
comes  on  board  to  watch  for  stray  smugglers. 

From  Argegno,  as  far  as  Tremezzo,  a 
cobbled  bridle-path  skirts  the  western  shore, 
rising  and  falling  according  to  the  nature 
of  the  ground  and  the  demands  of  traffic, 
curving  in  graceful  lines  over  the  little  ter- 
races, where  olives  and  almonds  grow,  —  an 
accommodating  path,  leisurely  and  friendly, 
full  of  a  delightful  waywardness  and  indi- 
rectness, knowing  no  hurry,  but  caressing 
the  mountains  as  it  passes,  and  spanning  the 
truculent  torrents  and  mountain  brooks  on 
great  stilts  of  bridges,  pushing  its  inquisi- 
tive length  even  into  the  villages  by  boring 
its  way  through  the  first  floors  of  the  houses 
and  converting  them  into  arcades. 

This  path  is  a  sauntering  Red  Riding 
Hood.  It  seems  to  loiter  once  in  awhile  for 
a  special  outlook  on  lake  and  mountain, 
to  listen  to  the  songs  of  the  nightingales  in 
the  thickets,  or  to  smell  the  verdant  hill- 
sides. At  times  it  loses  itself  in  mazes  of 
myrtle  and  rhododendron  hedges,  and  when 
we  think  it  surely  must  have  come  to  a  stop 
at  last,  it  suddenly  reappears  as  debonair 
as  ever  at  some  point  of  special  vantage, 

193 


The  Italian  Lakes 

wearing  a  provocative  expression  which 
might  be  translated  into,  "  Don't  you  wish 
you  knew  where  I've  been?  "  The  life  along 
this  path  and  in  the  villages  which  it  serves 
seems  as  remote  as  the  middle  ages.  There 
is  no  shriek  nor  puff  of  steam,  not  even  the 
rattle  of  a  carriage  along  the  whole  of  its 
course,  only  the  gentle  clattering  of  patient 
little  donkeys  treading  its  cobbles  daintily, 
the  clicking  of  women's  wooden  sandals,  the 
laugh  and  song  of  people  homeward  bound 
from  the  vineyards  after  the  day's  work  is 
done,  the  barn-yard  sounds,  and,  when  the 
path  dips  down  to  the  water,  the  usual  noises 
of  the  voluble  Italian  lake-front. 

Between  Sala  and  Campo,  separated  from 
the  shore  by  a  sheltered  sheet  of  water,  lies 
the  ancient  Isola  Comacina,  the  only  island 
in  the  whole  lake.  With  its  name  is  associ- 
ated much  history,  for  upon  this  little 
wooded  isle  imperial  Roman  civilization 
made  a  last  stand  in  its  tremendous  struggle 
against  the  Lombard  invasion  from  the 
north.  The  island  was  heavily  fortified,  and, 
while  almost  the  whole  of  Italy  had  accepted 
Lombard  rule,  here  the  defenders  of  the 
ancient  order,  with  its  allegiance  to  the 
Roman  emperor  at  Byzantium,  prepared  to 

194 


Up  the  Lake  of  Como 

resist.  The  Italians,  under  a  General  Fran- 
cioni,  withstood  a  siege  of  six  months,  and 
then  capitulated  to  the  Lombards  on  good 
terms  and  were  allowed  to  retreat  to  Ra- 
venna. During  the  subsequent  quarrels 
among  the  Lombards  themselves,  the  island 
often  served  as  a  refuge  for  the  persecuted 
or  for  conspirators.  It  was  finally  laid 
waste  in  1169  by  the  people  of  Como,  who 
carried  on  a  relentless  feud  with  its  inhab- 
itants. At  present  it  is  almost  untenanted, 
a  little  church  being  the  only  building  vis- 
ible. 

On  the  headland,  known  as  the  Punta  Bal- 
bianello,  stands  the  Villa  Arcomati-Visconti, 
which  serves  to  usher  us  into  the  charms 
of  the  Tremezzina  district.  A  colonnade 
covers  the  backbone  of  the  headland,  form- 
ing a  sort  of  a  bilateral  belvedere,  with 
views  up  and  down  the  lake.  This  villa 
stands  as  it  were  on  the  dividing  line  be- 
tween the  natural  and  unsophisticated  sce- 
nery of  the  lake  having  Argegno  as  its  cen- 
tre, and  that  highly  cultivated,  spectacular 
region  of  astonishing  scenic  and  artistic 
effects  which  circles  around  Bellagio. 

After  turning  the  corner  of  the  Punta  Bal- 
bianello,  the  boat  glides  into  a  nearer  view 

195 


The  Italian  Lakes 

of  that  rich  country  and  lakeside  which  lie 
between  Lenno  and  the  farther  side  of  Ca- 
denabbia,  stretched  out  upon  the  slope  and 
across  the  feet  of  Monte  Crocione,  thickly 
strewn  with  gardens,  perfumed  with  count- 
less flowers,  resonant  with  the  song  of  night- 
ingales, and  bright  with  a  never-failing  air 
of  eternal  spring,  —  in  a  word,  the  Tremez- 
zina.  The  boat  makes  stops  at  Tremezzo 
and  Cadenabbia,  and  then  crosses  to  Bella- 
gio.  Lakes  Como  and  Maggiore  have  this 
in  common,  that  they  are  both  divided  by 
great  headlands,  Maggiore  at  Pallanza  and 
Como  at  Bellagio.  The  name  Bellagio  is 
reputed  to  be  a  corruption  of  the  Latin  Bi- 
lacus  (Double  Lake).  Indeed,  the  headland 
divides  the  whole  lake  into  a  shape  like  an 
inverted  Y,  the  eastern  horn  of  which  as- 
sumes the  name  of  the  Lake  of  Lecco. 

On  this  great  open  bay  of  Bellagio  there 
are  at  least  five  favourite  stopping-places, 
Bellagio  itself,  Tremezzo,  Cadenabbia,  Me- 
naggio,  and  Varenna.  The  writer  does  not 
urge  the  merits  of  any  one  of  these  upon  the 
traveller,  for  their  virtues  will  speak  for 
themselves,  but  points  out  that  Tremezzo 
should  not  be  overlooked  in  making  a  choice, 
though  the  place  may  seem  to  lie  a  little  to 

196 


Up  the  Lake  of  Como 

one  side,  yet  so  short  are  the  distances  that 
it  may  be  considered  in  the  thick  of  the  prin- 
cipal attractions.  At  least,  in  justice  to  our- 
selves, it  is  not  possible  to  advance  farther 
up  the  lake  without  making  a  stay  of  some 
sort  on  the  shore  of  this  superb  bay.  Man 
and  nature  have  combined  to  turn  it  into 
one  of  the  beauty-spots  of  earth.  For  the 
present  the  steamboat  must  set  us  down,  for 
we  refuse  to  go  another  mile  until  our  im- 
mediate surroundings  have  been  explored  and 
satisfaction  has  been  reached. 


197 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE  BAY  OF  BELLAGIO:  BELLAGIO,  TREMEZZO, 
VILLA  CARLOTTA,  CADENABBIA  AND  MENAG- 
GIO,  VARENNA 

Be  II  agio 

THE  picture  of  the  promontory  of  Bella- 
gio  is  so  beautiful  as  a  whole  that  the  trav- 
eller had  better  stand  off  for  awhile  to  ad- 
mire it  at  a  distance  and  at  his  leisure. 
Indeed  it  is  a  question  whether  the  lasting 
impressions  which  we  treasure  of  Bellagio 
are  not,  after  all,  those  derived  from  across 
the  lake,  from  the  shore-fronts  of  Tremezzo, 
Cadenabbia,  Menaggio,  or  Varenna. 

A  colossal,  conquering  geological  lion  ap- 
pears to  have  come  up  from  the  south  in 
times  immemorial,  bound  for  the  north,  and 
finding  further  progress  stopped  by  the  great 
sheet  of  water  in  front  of  him,  seems  to  have 
halted  and  to  be  now  crouching  there  with 
his  noble  head  between  his  paws  and  his 
eyes  fixed  on  the  snow-covered  Alps.  The 

198 


Bellagio 

big  white  house  on  the  lion's  neck  is  the  Villa 
Serbelloni,  now  used  as  the  annex  of  a 
hotel,  and  the  park  of  noble  trees  belonging 
to  the  villa  forms  the  lion's  mane.  Hotels, 
both  large  and  small,  line  the  quay  at  the 
water's  edge;  then  comes  a  break  in  the 
houses,  and  stately  Villa  Melzi  is  seen  to 
stand  off  at  one  side.  Villa  Trotti  gleams 
from  among  its  bowers  farther  south,  on  the 
slope  Villa  Trivulzio,  formerly  Poldi,  shows 
bravely,  and  Villa  Giulia  has  cut  for  itself 
a  wide  prospect  over  both  arms  of  the  lake. 
At  the  back  of  this  lion  couchant,  in  the 
middle  ground,  sheer  mountain  walls  tower 
protectingly,  culminating  in  Monte  Grigna. 
The  picture  varies  from  hour  to  hour, 
from  day  to  day,  and  from  season  to  season. 
Its  colour-scheme  changes  with  wind  and 
sun,  its  sparkle  comes  and  goes  from  sun- 
rise to  sunset;  only  its  form  remains  un- 
touched through  the  night  and  lives  to  de- 
light us  another  day.  As  the  evening  wears 
on,  lights  appear  one  by  one  on  the  quay  of 
Bellagio,  until  there  is  a  line  of  fire  along 
the  base  of  the  dark  peninsula.  The  hotel 
windows  catch  the  glare,  the  villas  light 
their  storied  corridors,  and  presently  Bella- 
gio, all  aglow,  presents  the  spectacle  of  a 

199 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Venetian  night  mirrored  in  the  lake.  By 
this  time  the  mountains  have  turned  black 
and  the  sky  has  faded.  It  grows  so  still  on 
the  water  that  the  tinkle  of  a  little  Italian 
band  reaches  across  the  lake  to  Cadenabbia, 
a  laugh  rings  out  into  the  quiet  air  from 
one  of  the  merry  little  rowboats,  and  even 
the  slight  clatter  made  by  the  fishermen,  in 
putting  their  boats  to  rights  for  the  night 
and  in  carrying  their  nets  indoors,  can  be 
distinguished  as  one  of  many  indications  that 
the  day  is  done. 

When  we  land  at  Bellagio  by  daylight, 
we  find  it  to  be  very  much  of  a  bazaar  of 
souvenirs  along  the  water-front,  and  every- 
body determined  to  carry  away  a  keepsake. 
There  is  so  much  to  buy:  ornamental  olive 
wood  and  tortoise-shell  articles,  Como  blan- 
kets, lace,  and  what  may  be  described  in 
general  terms  as  modern  antiquities.  These 
abound  from  shop  to  shop ;  even  English  gro- 
ceries are  available.  Bellagio's  principal 
street  is  suddenly  converted  at  its  northern 
end  into  a  delightful  arcade,  after  the  ar- 
rangement which  constitutes  a  characteris- 
tic charm  of  the  villages  and  smaller  towns 
on  the  Italian  lakes;  moreover,  the  vista  up 
its  side  street  is  distinctly  original.  This 

200 


CHIANTI  SELLER 


Bellagio 

mounts  steeply  from  the  waterside,  like  the 
streets  of  Algiers,  is  narrow  and  constructed 
in  long  steps  to  break  the  incline. 

The  headland  of  Bellagio  would  seem  to 
have  been  marked  by  a  fortress  of  some  sort, 
even  in  Roman  times.  The  villa  of  Pliny 
the  Younger,  which  he  called  "  Tragedy," 
is,  as  already  stated,  supposed  to  have  stood 
somewhere  on  this  tongue  of  land.  In  the 
fourteenth  century  there  could  be  seen  there 
a  keep,  used  by  a  band  of  robbers  who  came 
from  Val  Cavargna,  over  by  Menaggio,  but 
it  was  destroyed  by  order  of  Gian  Galeazzo 
Visconti.  Then  the  Marquis  Stanga  built  a 
mansion  there,  and  after  that  had  been  torn 
down,  a  Duke  Ercole  Sfondrato  built  an- 
other in  1591,  and  this  is  the  building,  of 
course  much  altered  to  suit  the  tastes  of 
successive  owners,  which  passed  into  the 
hands  of  the  Serbelloni  family  of  Milan, 
and  which  now  serves  the  peaceful  purpose 
of  a  hotel  annex. 

Of  Villa  Serbelloni  one  may  say  that  its 
pride  lies  in  its  park  and  in  the  rich  diadem 
of  views  circling  from  that  centre.  It  was  a 
Duke  Sfondrato  who  planted  the  headland 
with  groves  of  trees  and  gave  it  that  fanciful 
resemblance  to  the  head  and  mane  of  a  giant 

201 


The  Italian  Lakes 

lion  when  seen  from  the  Tremezzina  shore. 
There  are  five  principal  groups  of  trees  with 
five  special  view-points,  whence  the  eye  can 
range  at  will  over  the  two  branches  of  the 
lake,  or  northward  to  the  snow-clad  Alps, 
or  south  upon  the  peninsula  itself,  rising  in 
rich  slopes  and  terraces,  from  garden  to  vine- 
yard, from  orchard  to  green  fields  and  to 
forests  of  chestnut  and  walnut  trees,  where 
country-houses,  farms,  and  hamlets  present 
an  appearance  of  fruitful  ease. 

In  this  famous  park  of  Villa  Serbelloni 
there  is  a  lavish  and  luxuriant  display  of 
foliage  in  extraordinary  variety,  made  ac- 
cessible to  the  visitor  by  woodland  paths. 
Here  are  dainty  oleanders  and  giant  cedars 
side  by  side,  laurels,  myrtles,  palms,  cacti, 
lemon,  and  even  banana  trees,  amid  sudden 
glimpses  and  glances  over  the  unmatched 
splendour  of  lake  and  mountain.  Take  it 
all  in  all,  there  is  surely  no  spot  on  earth 
better  favoured  than  the  Serbelloni  park, 
nor  is  there  a  forest  more  redolent  with  the 
perfume  of  noble  trees  or  resonant  with  the 
song  of  happier  birds.  Surely  there  is  spe- 
cial provision  here  in  the  way  of  scenic  beauty 
of  a  profuse  and,  withal,  of  an  exalted  type. 
Here  as  elsewhere  in  the  region  of  the  Ital- 

202 


Bellagio 

ian  lakes  the  key-note  of  admiration  is 
pitched  for  us  by  the  startling  contrast  be- 
tween the  exotic  and  the  arctic,  by  the  simul- 
taneous sight  of  sunlit  waters  and  everlasting 
snows,  by  the  olive-trees  set  off  upon  a  back- 
ground of  distant  mountain  pines,  by  the 
sudden  transition  from  the  limpid  notes  of 
the  nightingale,  hidden  in  garden  bowers, 
to  the  shrill  cries  of  wild  birds  fresh  from 
their  eyries  on  the  frowning  crags  of  Monte 
Crocione,  Cima  di  Pelaggia,  or  Monte 
Grigna. 

Villa  Melzi  is  significant  as  much  for  its 
architectural  grandeur,  and  the  artistic  and 
historical  treasures  it  contains,  as  for  its 
beautiful  grounds.  There  is  an  air  of  superb 
sumptuousness  about  Villa  Melzi,  which  is 
enhanced  by  its  costly  marbles.  The  building 
with  its  two  wings  was  erected  in  1815  for 
Count,  later  Duke,  Francesco  Melzi  d'Eril. 
There  are  copies  of  antiques  made  by  Ca- 
nova,  and  medallions  by  Thorwaldsen,  also 
busts  of  Laetitia  Bonaparte  and  Josephine 
Beauharnais  by  Canova;  on  the  lakeside  ter- 
races a  famous  marble  group  of  Dante  and 
Beatrice  by  Comolli  attracts  attention. 

And  so  sightseeing  on  this  extraordinary 
tip  of  land  multiplies  apace.  The  hours 

203 


The  Italian  Lakes 

lengthen  into  days  and  easily  gather  into 
weeks,  full  of  new  delights.  When  the 
costly  works  of  art  in  the  villas  and  the  de- 
lights of  their  gardens  have  satisfied  the 
visitor,  there  are  trips  by  water  in  every 
direction  and  excursions  close  at  hand  along 
unfrequented  shores  or  into  secluded  heights. 
Perchance  the  way  may  lead  as  far  as  the 
unsophisticated  villages  of  the  Brianza. 

Off  the  beaten  track  broad  smiles  and 
genial  willingness  on  the  part  of  the  people 
make  up  for  shortcomings  in  the  way  of 
board  and  lodging.  The  walk  to  Civenna, 
back  of  Bellagio,  recalls  in  some  of  its  as- 
pects the  road  from  Capri  to  Anacapri,  as 
that  develops  its  wider  views  with  every 
zigzag,  discloses  a  growing  perspective  of 
land  and  sea,  and,  finally,  with  a  sweep  of 
the  hand  presents  us  with  the  wealth  of 
colour  and  multifarious  outlines  of  the  whole 
Bay  of  Naples.  So  there  is  something  about 
this  road  that  mounts  from  Bellagio  to  Ci- 
venna, which  tempts  to  a  comparison  with 
the  Capri  road,  for  it  shows  the  Bay  of  Bel- 
lagio lying  below  in  a  veritable  superabun- 
dance of  natural  beauty. 

At  Bellagio  it  is  interesting  to  read  what 
Ruskin  has  to  say  on  the  subject  of  the  villas 

204 


Bellagio 

on  Lake  Como.  In  "  The  Poetry  of  Archi- 
tecture "  he  thus  clearly  characterizes  their 
tendency  as  regards  situation: 

' The  villas  of  the  Lago  di  Como  are 
built,  par  preference,  either  on  jutting  prom- 
ontories of  low  crag  covered  with  olives,  or 
on  those  parts  of  the  shore  where  some  moun- 
tain stream  has  carried  out  a  bank  of  allu- 
vium into  the  lake.  One  object  proposed  in 
this  choice  of  situation  is,  to  catch  the  breeze 
as  it  comes  up  the  main  opening  of  the  hills, 
and  to  avoid  the  reflection  of  the  sun's  rays 
from  the  rocks  of  the  actual  shore;  and  an- 
other is,  to  obtain  a  prospect  up  or  down  the 
lake  and  of  the  hills  on  whose  projection 
the  villa  is  built:  but  the  effect  of  this  choice, 
when  the  building  is  considered  the  object, 
is  to  carry  it  exactly  into  the  place  where 
it  ought  to  be,  far  from  the  steep  preci- 
pice and  dark  mountain  to  the  border  of 
the  winding  bay  and  citron-scented  cape, 
where  it  stands  at  once  conspicuous  and  in 
peace." 

Ruskin  then  cites  Villa  Serbelloni  as  an 
example  of  such  a  situation.  As  to  the 
characteristic  form  of  these  villas,  Ruskin 
writes: 

"  It  is  generally  the  apex  of  a  series  of 
205 


The  Italian  Lakes 

•V 

artificial  terraces,  which  conduct  through 
its  gardens  to  the  water.  These  are  formal 
in  their  design,  but  extensive,  wide,  and 
majestic  in  their  slope,  the  steps  being  gen- 
erally about  one-half  foot  high  and  four 
and  one-half  feet  wide  (sometimes,  however, 
much  deeper).  They  are  generally  sup- 
ported by  white  wall,  strengthened  by  un- 
filled arches,  the  angles  being  turned  by 
sculptured  pedestals,  surmounted  by  statues 
or  urns.  Along  the  terraces  are  carried 
rows,  sometimes  of  cypress,  more  frequently 
of  orange  or  lemon  trees,  with  myrtles,  sweet 
bay,  and  aloes  intermingled,  but  always  with 
dark  and  spiry  cypresses  occurring  in  groups; 
and  attached  to  these  terraces,  or  to  the  villa 
itself,  are  series  of  arched  grottoes,  .  .  . 
built  (or  sometimes  cut  in  the  rock)  for 
coolness,  frequently  overhanging  the  water, 
kept  dark  and  fresh,  and  altogether  delicious 
to  the  feelings." 

As  illustrative  of  this  form  of  building, 
Ruskin  cites  Villa  Sommariva  (now  Villa 
Carlotta).  In  "The  Poetry  of  Architec- 
ture "  Ruskin  also  describes  the  form  of 
Villa  Porro  (now  Villa  Balbianello  or  Villa 
Arcomati) . 


206 


Tremezzo 

Tre mezzo 

Tremezzo  is  little  more  than  a  sunny  arch- 
way with  villas  attached. 

Take  a  handful  of  houses  made  of  stone 
and  mortar,  tint  them  with  the  usual  colour- 
scheme  of  an  Italian  lake-front,  then  dispose 
them  in  a  line  along  and  over  the  water, 
build  out  some  little  harbour  jetties  here 
and  there,  scoop  out  a  few  convenient  hol- 
lows under  the  houses  where  little  boats  may 
lie,  throw  in  bowers  with  trees  trained  to 
give  shade,  splash  the  house  walls  and  para- 
pets with  wistaria  vines  and  fill  up  all  the 
unoccupied  space  with  myrtle,  rhododendron, 
and  camellia  bushes,  —  and  you  have  Tre- 
mezzo seen  from  the  water.  And  since  the 
place  must  have  some  kind  of  a  street,  take 
a  fair-sized  auger  and  bore  a  passage 
through  the  first  floors  of  all  the  houses, 
regardless  of  consequences,  cut  openings  in 
the  outside  walls,  so  as  to  give  an  outlook 
upon  the  lake,  and  the  result  is  a  beautiful 
little  archway,  giving  shelter  from  sun  and 
rain  and  open  on  the  waterside. 

As  the  single  street  of  Tremezzo  is  kept 
down  to  the  dimensions  of  a  bridle-path, 
and  as  there  is  a  sign  at  the  entrance  of  that 

207 


The  Italian  Lakes 

single  street  which  warns  the  public  that 
bicycles  and  consimili  (such  things)  must  be 
led  by  the  hand  through  the  archway,  it  is 
evident  that  official  action  has  been  taken 
in  order  that  nothing  obstreperous  may  in- 
trude upon  the  idyllic  quiet  of  the  little 
place.  No  noisy  auto,  train,  nor  trolley,  not 
even  a  carriage  with  prancing  steeds  may 
come  that  way;  the  narrowness  of  the  path 
from  Argegno  protects  Tremezzo  on  the 
south  and  Villa  Carlotta  stands  guard  on 
the  north.  The  nearest  approach  to  a  vehi- 
cle the  writer  can  recall  was  a  strolling  or- 
gan-grinder's cart,  drawn  by  a  donkey.  Tran- 
quillity reigns,  a  peaceful  remoteness  per- 
vades the  place,  the  atmosphere  is  sequestered 
and  restful  to  a  degree,  yet  even  in  its  seclu- 
sion the  archway  of  Tremezzo  is  next  door 
to  the  big  world,  and  is  busy  in  its  own  cosy, 
homelike  way.  It  has  a  provincial  life  of  its 
own  on  a  minute  scale,  only  for  most  visitors 
Tremezzo  is  so  sheltered  and  watched  that 
it  presents  all  the  appearances  of  a  private 
establishment  or  enterprise  and  gains  thereby 
in  their  affections. 

Of  an  evening  it  is  a  good  plan  to  lean 
your  elbows  on  some  parapet  of  Tremezzo 
in  order  to  see  that  the  sun  sets  as  it  should. 

208 


Tremezzo 

Young  girls  go  by,  clinking  their  wooden 
clogs  in  the  cobbled  archway.  A  boat  bell 
rings  musically,  and  presently  the  paddles 
of  an  approaching  steamboat  beat  a  rapid 
tattoo  on  the  water.  Little  wavelets  lap  the 
base  of  the  parapet.  Down  at  the  dock  the 
great  excitement  of  the  day  is  taking  place 
with  the  arrival  of  the  last  mail  and  per- 
chance also  of  guests  for  the  hotel. 

When  this  gentle  turmoil  has  subsided, 
and  the  quality  of  the  atmosphere  is  once 
more  merely  contemplative,  a  new  note 
makes  you  turn  your  head  toward  the  shrub- 
beries of  the  villa  gardens.  It  is  a  note  you 
may  never  have  heard  before.  If  your  home 
is  overseas,  it  is  quite  unlikely  that  you  have 
ever  had  the  opportunity.  The  sound  is  of 
a  quiet  little  warble,  sweet  and  tentative.  It 
is  answered  by  another  from  the  laurel 
bushes.  There  is  a  pause.  Then  comes  a 
response  from  the  myrtles.  The  warble 
lengthens  into  a  mellow,  fluty  cadenza,  soft 
and  velvety  and  given  with  a  gentle  assur- 
ance. Soon  the  nightingales  are  busy  singing 
to  each  other,  to  the  mountains,  to  the  silver 
trail  of  the  moon  on  the  lake,  to  all  outdoors. 
At  such  times  it  is  well  to  take  a  rowboat 
and  creep  noiselessly  alongshore,  listening 

209 


The  Italian  Lakes 

to  the  singing  birds,  past  the  noble  water 
gate  of  Villa  Carlotta,  along  the  little  shaded 
quay  of  Cadenabbia  and  its  brightly  lighted 
hotels  toward  Menaggio,  skirting  the  walls, 
the  lake  steps,  the  jutting  terraces,  and  the 
grand  villas.  Those  placid  nights  full  of 
balm  will  long  be  remembered  even  after 
the  red  camellias  and  the  purple  wistaria, 
which  may  have  been  pressed  as  souvenirs  in 
your  guide-books,  have  faded  and  grown 
yellow. 

Villa  Carlotta 

It  is  worth  while  to  approach  Villa  Car- 
lotta by  rowboat,  just  to  be  able  to  land  at 
its  noble  water-steps.  At  these  steps  the 
modern  world  must  perforce  drop  away  from 
our  recollection,  for  the  particular  grace  of 
their  sweep  belongs  to  an  age  which  knew 
nothing  about  applied  steam  or  electricity, 
but  laid  its  lines  for  leisure.  As  our  boat 
approaches  the  villa,  its  lakeside  balustrades, 
enormous  hedges,  cacti  and  palms,  are  seen 
to  be  set  off  by  a  background  of  severe  and 
Oriental  aspect,  the  bare  strata  of  Monte 
Crocione. 

Perhaps,  when  you  land,  an  old  man,  as 
in  years  gone  by,  may  still  be  sitting  by  the 

210 


Villa  Carlotta 

steps  carving  wooden  spoons  so  dexterously 
and  patiently.  Once  in  awhile  he  used  to 
take  his  siesta  on  the  parapet  in  the  genial 
sun,  and  once  in  a  great  while  he  would  sell 
a  spoon. 

The  villa  exterior  is  simplicity  itself.  The 
building  looks  more  like  the  country-house 
common  to  the  continent  of  Europe  than  like 
a  show-place  palazzo.  There  is  a  big  cen- 
tral clock  and  homelike  green  blinds.  Once 
past  the  great  ornamental  ironwork  gateway, 
however,  and  within  the  vestibule  of  Villa 
Carlotta,  it  becomes  evident  that  we  have 
entered  no  ordinary  country-house,  but  a 
choice  repository  of  art,  full  of  historical 
association.  Here  Canova  and  Thorwald- 
sen  have  left  some  of  their  distinctive  work. 
Especially  famous  is  Canova's  sculpture,  en- 
titled "  Cupid  and  Psyche,"  which  stands  in 
the  marble  hall,  and  is  a  work  of  art  known 
and  shown  the  world  over  in  a  multitude  of 
plastic  reproductions  or  photographs.  Youth- 
ful charm  and  innocence  mark  this  piece  of 
sculpture  and  make  it  a  sort  of  a  modern 
classic,  universally  liked.  The  walls  of  the 
marble  hall  are  covered  with  Thorwaldsen's 
reliefs,  entitled  "  Triumph  of  Alexander/' 
running  as  a  frieze  and  depicting  the  con- 

211 


The  Italian  Lakes 

queror's  entry  into  fallen  Babylon.  This 
work  was  originally  ordered  of  the  sculptor 
in  plaster,  to  be  placed  in  the  Quirinal  in 
Rome  on  the  occasion  of  the  visit  of  Napo- 
leon I.  Later  on  the  emperor  commissioned 
Thorwaldsen  to  execute  the  work  in  marble, 
but  the  fall  of  Napoleon  I.  put  a  temporary 
stop  to  the  sculptor's  plans.  Finally  the  lat- 
ter sold  the  whole  series  to  Count  Somma- 
riva,  who  acquired  the  villa  in  1802  anr1 
housed  these  marble  treasures  within  its 
walls.  In  1843  a  princess  of  Prussia  bought 
the  villa  and  named  it  after  her  daughter 
Carlotta.  Through  this  daughter  the  villa 
came  by  inheritance  into  the  possession  of 
the  ducal  family  of  Saxe-Meiningen,  the 
present  owners.  If  you  are  very  fortunate, 
some  day,  when  you  are  walking  on  the 
shaded  quay  which  binds  the  villa  to  Cade- 
nabbia,  you  may  even  be  in  time  to  see  the 
grand  ducal  barge  with  its  liveried  oarsmen 
and  handsomely  polished  appurtenances  wait 
at  the  famous  water-steps,  and  presently  you 
may  witness  the  ducal  party  issue  from  the 
iron  gateway,  enter  the  big  boat,  and  then 
glide  over  the  water  as  the  barge  is  propelled 
by  a  beautiful  sweep  of  the  oars.  The  oars- 
men wear  green  sashes  and  what  look  like 

212 


Villa  Carlotta 

tam-o'shanters,  and  a  green  and  white  flag 
floats  from  the  stern. 

The  garden  of  the  villa  virtually  fills  in 
the  space  between  Tremezzo  and  Cadenabbia 
and  rises  in  four  great  terraces  from  the 
water  up  the  slope.  Giant  magnolias  and 
myrtles  are  shown  by  the  attendant,  also  a 
trellised  walk  of  lemon-trees,  and  exotics  of 
every  variety  fill  the  air  with  pleasant  per- 
fumes and  provide  deep,  shadowy,  silent 
nooks  whence  the  sparkling  lake  looks  doubly 
brilliant. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  nightingales 
have  chosen  this  glorious  garden  for  one 
of  their  chief  abiding-places  in  their  search 
for  seclusion.  Hidden  under  the  canopy 
of  the  thick  foliage,  they  warble  undis- 
turbed morning  and  night,  paying  the  com- 
pliments of  the  hour  to  dawn  and  dusk, 
and  singing  sweet  sayings  to  each  other. 
Their  voices  spread  a  harmless  flattery  over 
the  entire  lakeside  and  tend  to  multiply  every 
grace  of  bird  and  flower,  man  and  beast. 
Surely  the  very  fish,  floating  balanced  under 
the  hollows  of  the  lake  shore,  must  hear  and 
rejoice. 


213 


The  Italian  Lakes 
Cadenabbia  and  Menaggio 

The  English  have  colonized  the  water- 
front of  Cadenabbia,  and  there  is  very  little 
else  to  the  place.  English  seems  to  be  the 
prevalent  language  on  the  quay,  and  is 
spoken  at  a  pinch  even  by  some  of  the  bold, 
brave  battellieri,  who  wear  fancy  sailor  suits 
and  look  like  man-o'-war's-men  fresh  from 
the  stage.  Their  straw  hats  have  ribbons 
decorated  with  the  names  of  the  hotels  they 
serve,  and  some  go  so  far  as  to  wear  gay 
and  gaudy  red  sashes. 

Among  Longfellow's  "  Poems,"  in  the  di- 
vision headed  "  Birds  of  Passage,"  are  some 
delightful  verses  called  "  Lake  of  Como." 
These  same  verses  also  appear  in  a  series  of 
volumes,  edited  by  Longfellow  and  entitled 
"  Poems  of  Places."  In  that  series  the  verses 
are  called  "  Cadenabbia."  The  MS.  poem 
written  by  Longfellow  himself  hangs  in  the 
Hotel  Belle  Vue  in  Cadenabbia.  The  fol- 
lowing are  some  of  its  lines: 

*'  No  sound  of  wheels  or  hoof-beat  breaks 

The  silence  of  the  summer  day, 
As  by  the  loveliest  of  all  lakes 
I  while  the  idle  hours  away. 


214 


Cadenabbia  and  Menaggio 

"  By  Somariva's  garden  gate 

I  make  the  marble  stairs  my  seat, 
And  hear  the  water,  as  I  wait, 

Lapping  the  stones  beneath  my  feet,'* 

Other  verses  refer  to: 

«'  Bellagio  blazing  in  the  sun" 

and 

"  Varenna  with  its  white  cascade." 

These  verses  have  doubtless  done  some- 
thing to  popularize  Cadenabbia  among  Eng- 
lish-speaking peoples,  for  the  place  now 
shares  with  Bellagio  the  affections  and  atten- 
tions of  the  majority  of  such  tourists. 

Beyond  Cadenabbia  a  carriage  road  skirts 
the  lake  to  Menaggio,  and  a  series  of  magnif- 
icent villas  range  themselves  along  it  for  the 
view  over  lake  and  mountain.  It  has  been 
reserved  for  the  owner  of  one  of  the  finest 
of  these  villas  to  strike  a  highly  successful 
note  in  making  his  castellated  dwelling  seem 
really  to  spring  from  the  very  ground.  The 
colouring  has  been  chosen  to  match  the  noble 
rocks  of  San  Martino  at  the  back,  as  well 
as  the  gray-green  tint  of  the  gentle  olive- 
trees  that  soften  the  straight  lines  of  the 
terraces. 

215 


The  Italian  Lakes 

The  pretty  village  of  Griante  smiles  from 
its  vineyards  upon  the  slope  above;  the  bare 
sides  of  Monte  San  Martino  invite  a  climb 
for  the  superb  view  over  the  three  branches 
of  the  lake.  A  depression  in  the  rock  near 
the  white  church  of  San  Martino  is,  accord- 
ing to  the  peasants,  the  very  place  where 
Noah's  ark  rested  after  the  flood.  It  is  inter- 
esting to  know  that  shells  and  various  marine 
deposits  have  been  found  in  the  rock  at  that 
altitude,  as  though  to  confirm  current  tradi- 
tion about  the  ark. 

From  somewhere  along  the  road  between 
Cadenabbia  and  Menaggio,  though  nearer  the 
latter  place,  there  may  be  seen  a  well-defined 
profile  upon  the  mountains  of  the  opposite 
shore  of  Lake  Lecco  toward  the  southeast. 
It  is  called  the  face  of  Napoleon,  although 
it  bears  no  particular  resemblance  to  that 
well-known  physiognomy.  The  head  ap- 
pears to  lie  back,  there  is  a  chin,  a  nose,  a 
slight  depression  for  the  eye,  and  a  sloping 
forehead.  There  is  also  a  queer  downward 
line  which  makes  this  "  old  man  o'  the  moun- 
tain "  look  decidedly  grumpy. 

Menaggio,  in  contrast  with  Cadenabbia 
and  Bellagio,  presents  the  appearance  of 
being  more  than  a  mere  traveller's  home.  It 

216 


Cadenabbia  and  Menaggio 

has  a  large  silk  factory  and  maintains  two 
boat-landings,  one  to  connect  with  the  steam- 
tram  that  ascends  over  the  mountains  to 
Porlezza  on  Lake  Lugano,  and  the  other 
boat-landing  for  the  northern  end  of  the 
town.  Of  the  trip  to  Porlezza,  it  may  be 
stated  that  for  those  who  have  not  the  time 
to  learn  in  detail  of  the  charms  of  the  Bay 
of  Bellagio,  this  ascent  by  steam-tram  gives 
them  a  superb  bird's-eye  view.  As  the  tiny 
train  moves  up,  it  is  as  though  a  shifting 
of  colossal  scenery  was  going  on,  —  the  fore, 
the  middle,  and  the  backgrounds  acting  and 
reacting  upon  each  other,  bringing  out  views 
of  changing  contrasts  and  startling  combi- 
nations, wherein  the  villas  of  the  rich  and 
the  hamlets  of  the  poor  occupy  the  same 
stage.  We  mount  through  fig-trees  and  cy- 
presses to  forests  of  chestnut  close  to  the 
sullen  rocks  above,  while  the  lake  lies  below 
placid  in  its  widest  expanse  of  delicious  blue. 
A  sail  barge  lies  becalmed  upon  it,  or  a 
steamboat  makes  a  wide  mark  over  its  sur- 
face. Then  presently  the  train  dips  down 
over  the  crest  of  the  pass  toward  Lake  Lu- 
gano. 

The    only    landward    connection    between 
Menaggio  and  Aquaseria  used  to  be  by  a 

217 


The  Italian  Lakes 

bridle-path  similar  to  the  one  from  Argegno 
to  Tremezzo,  only  bolder  in  its  peregrina- 
tions. It  went  meandering  and  romancing 
up  and  down  the  rocky  mountainside,  around 
the  Sasso  Rancio,  or  orange  rock,  in  a  most 
irresponsible  way,  and  gave  the  French  much 
trouble  when  they  found  themselves  obliged 
to  use  it  in  1799.  Indeed  they  used  it  to 
their  cost,  for  at  the  orange  rock  many  a 
horse  and  rider  plunged  into  the  lake  below. 
To-day  the  usefulness  of  this  path  is  re- 
placed by  a  grand  new  carriage  road,  such 
as  the  Italians  know  so  well  how  to  build, 
the  Strada  Regina  Margherita,  with  the 
usual  assortment  of  tunnels  and  cuts.  No 
one  should  complain  of  the  change,  for  the 
old  path  was  really  exasperating  at  times 
in  its  splendid  audacity,  and  some  of  the 
corners  had  very  sheer  edges  dipping  down 
to  the  compact  blue  of  the  lake  beneath. 
And  yet  the  lizards  used  to  bask  very  com- 
fortably on  the  protecting  wall  of  the  old 
path,  the  cherry-trees  ripened  especially  early 
there  under  the  influence  of  the  heat  reflected 
from  the  rocks,  the  laburnum  clusters  were 
profusely  yellow,  and  in  the  branches  the 
nightingales  sang  pretty  much  all  day  to  the 
glimmering  waters  below,  undisturbed  by 

218 


V&renna 

the  rare  wayfarers  or  by  harmless  little 
donkeys  carrying  burdens  from  village  to 
village. 

Varenna 

Completing  the  garland  of  fair  places  on 
the  Bay  of  Bellagio,  but  situated  on  the 
eastern  shore  of  the  lake,  lies  Varenna, 
unique  and  Oriental  of  aspect,  with  dark 
cypresses  matched  against  a  pale  gray  cliff. 
Not  long  since  the  place  was  but  a  primitive 
lake  hamlet,  but  the  railroad  from  Lecco  to 
Colico  has  necessitated  a  station,  and  there  is 
quite  a  fine  steamboat  landing,  with  a  hotel 
omnibus  in  waiting  to  take  guests  up  the 
incline.  The  ruined  tower  surmounting  the 
great  cliff  of  Vezio,  high  above  the  town, 
was  once  a  fortress  belonging  to  that  same 
family  of  Sfondrato,  to  which  reference  was 
made  under  the  heading  of  Bellagio,  and  a 
member  of  which  established  himself  where 
Villa  Serbelloni  now  stands. 

Varenna,  facing  south,  lies  in  the  full  track 
of  the  rays  of  the  sun,  as  they  search  the 
mountainsides,  and  are  reflected  from  the 
surface  of  the  lake  at  its  widest  expanse. 
The  view  is  down  two  of  the  arms  of  the  lake 
and  up  the  third.  Lizards  find  Varenna 

219 


The  Italian  Lakes 

especially  attractive,  and  scurry  among  the 
cactus  plants,  the  oleanders,  the  orange  and 
citron  trees. 

Near  Varenna  the  picturesquely  named 
torrent  of  Fiume  Latte  (Stream  of  Milk) 
falls  into  the  lake  in  a  series  of  cascades 
from  a  height  of  almost  one  thousand  feet. 
During  the  winter  months  it  generally  dis- 
appears entirely,  shows  itself  occasionally 
after  rain-storms  in  summer,  and  is  most 
copious  in  spring  with  the  melting  of  the 
snow  and  ice  in  the  heights  above. 

If  the  call  of  the  mountains  makes  itself 
heard,  a  trip  up  the  Val  d'Esino  to  Monte 
Grigna  is  in  order  from  Varenna.  This  will 
take  us  away  from  the  floating  population 
of  the  lakeside,  which  has  come  from  the 
ends  of  the  earth  to  delight  in  the  shifting 
spectacle  of  Lake  Como,  and  will  lead  us 
to  where  the  great  white  clouds  trail  over 
the  solitary  upland  pastures.  There  a  few 
herders  live  remotely,  yet  they  need  but  look 
over  the  brinks  of  their  lofty  precipices  to 
see,  set  out  below,  picture-maps  of  close  cul- 
tivation and  close  habitation,  of  wealth  and 
fashion,  of  a  strange  mode  of  living,  with 
which  they  are  brought  into  actual  contact 
only  through  the  milk  and  butter  they  sell. 

220 


Varenna 

And  doubtless,  when  the  cattle  have  been 
milked  for  the  day  and  the  spare  bite  of 
polenta  has  been  taken,  they  can  sit  for  a 
while  in  the  twilight,  watching  certain  curi- 
ous jets  of  piercing  white  light  dart  from 
the  obscurity  of  Cadenabbia  and  Menaggio 
and  cast  corresponding  reflections  upon  the 
water.  These  jets  are  electric  lights,  and 
they  stand  for  the  very  acme  of  luxurious 
lowland  extravagance  in  the  eyes  of  the  good 
people  of  the  mountains. 


221 


CHAPTER   XX 

FROM  CHIAVENNA  TO  LECCO 

TRAVELLERS  from  the  Engadine  over  the 
Maloja  and  Spliigen  passes  find  at  Chiavenna 
their  first  town  of  any  size  in  Italy.  It  is, 
as  its  name  implies,  a  "  Key "  to  Northern 
Italy,  the  Clavenna  of  the  Romans.  First 
impressions  count  for  a  great  deal,  and  Chia- 
venna is  nothing  if  not  original.  The  town 
is  dominated  by  a  rock,  a  veritable  citadel 
in  appearance,  which  is,  however,  devoted 
to  the  peaceful  purpose  of  a  restaurant, 
called  Paradise.  The  unfinished  structure  of 
a  great  castle  with  staring  windows  lies  at 
the  foot  of  this  rock.  Chiavenna  can  tell 
tales  of  siege  and  strain  and  destruction,  from 
the  time  of  Barbarossa  to  the  Visconti,  and 
in  more  modern  times  bears  witness  to  the 
conflicting  ambitions  of  the  Swiss  Canton  of 
Graubiinden,  of  Spain,  France,  and  Austria. 
The  castle  was  begun  by  the  De  Salis  fam- 
ily of  Graubiinden,  but  abandoned  in  1639. 

222 


From  Chiavenna  to  Lecco 

A  lofty  Lombard  campanile  rises  from  the 
town,  but  both  that  and  the  citadel-like  rock 
are  dwarfed  by  the  towering  heights  that 
seem  to  have  caught  and  clamped  Chiavenna 
between  their  sheer  steeply  wooded  sides. 
Little  terraces  of  bright  green,  miniature 
trellises,  vineyards,  and  white  houses,  pitched 
against  forests  of  swelling  chestnut-trees,  — 
all  these  cling  to  the  mountains  like  flies  to 
window-panes. 

The  interior  of  the  town  is  largely  char- 
acterized by  the  rushing  stream  of  the  Mera, 
along  which  the  town  is  built.  Many  of  the 
back  doors  give  upon  the  tumultuous  water. 
Two  fine  bridges  cross  the  Mera,  one  leading 
to  the  Maloja  pass  and  the  other  to  the 
Spliigen.  A  few  old  portals  catch  the  eye 
as  reminders  of  good  old  days.  The  place 
is  not  without  modern  features,  being  lighted 
by  electricity  and  connected  with  the  great 
world  by  rail,  but  it  gives  an  impression  of 
being  constantly  engaged  in  a  struggle 
against  its  alpine  background  and  winning 
a  right  to  existence  only  by  incessant  toil. 
There  is  some  resemblance  to  Sion  and  Bel- 
linzona  in  Switzerland.  At  Chiavenna,  also, 
the  big  yellow  diligences  of  Switzerland, 
and  their  drivers  and  guards  in  modest  uni- 

223 


The  Italian  Lakes 

form,  make  connections  with  the  voluble 
Italian  trains  and  hobnob  with  the  Italian 
customs  officers  and  Italian  carabinieri  in 
brave  array. 

The  journey  from  Chiavenna  to  Colico  on 
Lake  Como  takes  us  first  of  all  through  a 
strange  flat  country  which  goes  by  the  name 
of  the  Piano  di  Chiavenna.  Here  cattle  and 
horses  range  over  the  wide  meadows.  Then 
comes  Lake  Riva  with  reedy  shores  and  som- 
bre gorges  opening  into  the  mountainsides, 
and  shortly  before  Colico  a  glimpse  is  af- 
forded of  the  entrance  into  the  highly  cul- 
tivated Val  Tellina  (German  Veltlin),  into 
which  a  branch  line  runs  to  the  places  Son- 
drio  and  Tirano. 

Around  Colico  the  mountains  are  plenti- 
fully sprinkled  with  villages.  Here  the  ques- 
tion of  rail  or  steamboat  must  be  decided  for 
the  further  journey,  only  let  no  travellers 
who  have  merely  taken  the  train  from  Colico 
to  Lecco  imagine  that  they  have  seen  the 
Lake  of  Como.  Never  was  there  a  more 
aggravating  line  with  such  provoking  fre- 
quency of  tunnels.  At  the  moment  of  enjoy- 
ment, when  the  eye,  after  much  dodging  of 
projections,  trees,  houses,  or  mountain  spurs, 
has  finally  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  match- 

224 


From  Chiavenna  to  Lecco 

less  blue  expanse,  then  comes  with  sudden 
fury  an  obliterating  blackness  and  a  mighty 
rumbling.  The  train  has  plunged  once  more 
into  the  mountainside.  The  peeps  are  fas- 
cinating, but  the  waits  are  exasperating,  and 
this  alternation  of  "  now  you  do  "  and  "  now 
you  don't "  has  been  known  to  make  trav- 
ellers refuse  to  look  even  when  there  was 
really  something  to  see. 

In  the  year  1833  Ruskin,  then  some  four- 
teen years  of  age,  made  his  first  trip  over 
the  Alps  with  his  parents.  He  wrote  "  A 
Tour  on  the  Continent "  in  juvenile  verses, 
and  among  sub-headings  of  this  poem  we 
find  "  Chiavenna,"  "  Lago  di  Como,"  "  Ca- 
denabbia,"  "Villa  Pliniana,"  and  "Lago 
Maggiore."  In  his  "  Praeterita "  he  thus 
writes  of  his  initiation  into  the  beauties  of 
Lake  Como: 

"  We  took  boat  on  the  little  recessed  lake 
of  Chiavenna,  and  rowed  down  the  whole 
way  of  waters,  passing  another  Sunday  at 
Cadenabbia,  and  then,  from  villa  to  villa, 
across  the  lake,  and  across  to  Como,  and  so 
to  Milan  by  Monza.  It  was  then  full, 
though  early,  summer-time;  and  the  first 
impression  of  Italy  always  ought  to  be  in 
summer.  It  was  also  well  that,  though  my 

225 


The  Italian  Lakes 

heart  was  with  the  Swiss  cottage,  the  arti- 
ficial taste  in  me  had  been  mainly  formed  by 
Turner's  rendering  of  these  very  scenes  in 
Rogers's  *  Italy.' " 

The  upper  portion  of  Lake  Como  is  not  as 
thickly  sown  with  travellers  as  the  lower 
portion.  There  is  less  of  the  spectacular, 
less  affluence  and  abundance  of  vegetation. 
The  olive-tree  gives  place  readily  to  the 
chestnut,  and  yet  a  place  like  Gravedona  is 
not  without  interest.  It  displays  a  fine  old 
palazzo,  with  a  terrace  overlooking  the  lake 
and  a  graceful  central  loggia.  Many  a  pink 
house  or  a  blue  one  stands  out  from  rock 
or  wooded  pinnacle,  and  everywhere  there  is 
a  painstaking  cultivation  of  every  scrap  of 
ground  available.  The  clouds,  too,  perform 
their  part  when  the  day  is  not  absolutely 
sunny,  as  needs  must  be  sometimes,  even  on 
the  Italian  lakes.  In  long  level  streaks  they 
hang  along  the  mountains,  often  leaving  the 
peaks  exposed  to  view.  Then,  when  the  sun 
does  break  through,  these  same  clouds  glow 
and  cast  their  halos  on  the  land  beneath. 

Dongo  is  a  large-ish  place,  and  the  ruins 
of  castle  Musso  recorded  history  in  their  day, 
when  they  sheltered  that  extraordinary  pi- 
rate, the  self-styled  Giov.  Giac.  de  Medici. 

226 


The  Lake  of  Lecco 

For  the  historical  significance  of  this  adven- 
turer, the  reader  is  referred  to  the  author's 
work  on  "  The  Rise  of  the  Swiss  Republic." 

Somebody  has  softened  the  ruins  of  Musso 
by  turning  the  whole  of  the  rocky  height 
into  a  garden.  Here  are  rockeries  and  little 
paths  artistically  and  artificially  traced  from 
point  to  point  over  yawning  chasms  by  pretty 
bridges.  At  every  possible  place,  by  every 
torrent  that  tumbles  into  the  lake,  and  on 
every  sloping  bit  of  shore  the  invariable 
washerwomen  kneel  to  their  work.  Here 
and  there,  in  bight  or  bay,  fishermen  are  seen 
drawing  in  their  nets,  and  fish-hawks  sail 
in  circles  on  the  alert. 

Bellano,  with  its  large  factories,  is  at  the 
entrance  of  the  Val  Sassina  and  opens  the 
way  to  interesting  excursions  into  rarely  vis- 
ited mountains,  from  which  it  is  possible  to 
emerge  again  at  the  town  of  Lecco. 

The  Lake  of  Lecco 

A  double  line  of  rail  and  carriage  road 
rather  spoils  the  looks  of  the  eastern  bank 
of  the  Lake  of  Lecco,  but  this  line  renders 
a  vast  service  to  the  country  and  should  not 
be  condemned  for  scratching  the  mountain- 

227 


The  Italian  Lakes 

side.  At  best  the  mountains  hereabouts  are 
somewhat  severe  in  their  bareness,  but  their 
forms  are  imposing,  and  the  lake  renders 
them  again  in  majestic  reflections.  Notice- 
able are  certain  pathetic  brown  stacks  of 
brushwood,  assembled  with  scrupulous  care 
on  the  shore-line  at  the  feet  of  the  hard 
cliffs  and  speaking  eloquently  of  a  constant 
struggle  against  poverty.  As  we  step  aboard 
the  steamboat  for  Lecco,  we  are  handed  yel- 
low tickets  bearing  the  name  of  the  station 
where  we  embark.  This  seems  to  be  a  habit 
peculiar  to  Lake  Como.  The  day  is  warm 
and  hazy,  and  a  uniformity  which  is  almost 
colourless  broods  upon  the  water.  Great 
barges,  with  big  oars  acting  as  side  boards, 
drop  quietly  astern,  becalmed.  On  the  sec- 
ond-class deck  some  recruits,  summoned  to 
the  colours,  sing  to  keep  up  their  courage. 
They  repeat  some  simple  musical  phrase  with 
surprising  persistence  and  end  it  finally  in 
a  long-drawn,  dirge-like  chant. 

And  since  the  subject  of  mountain  silhou- 
ettes has  been  broached  before  in  this  book, 
in  connection  with  the  Lake  of  Lecco,  it  may 
be  in  order  for  the  writer  to  state  that,  re- 
turning from  Lecco  to  Bellagio  by  boat  one 
evening  he  saw  a  silhouette  designed  upon 

228 


Lecco 

the  flanks  of  a  mountain,  probably  the  Corni 
di  Canzo,  which  far  transcended  anything 
of  its  kind  he  had  ever  seen,  in  clearness  of 
outline  and  especially  in  beauty.  It  was 
about  sundown,  and  the  point  of  view  was 
toward  Lecco.  The  silhouette  was  that  of  a 
pure  Greek  head  with  the  unmistakable  type 
of  features,  —  straight  nose,  fine  lips,  and 
delicately  chiseled  chin.  The  head  was  sur- 
mounted by  a  helmet  of  antique  pattern.  As 
the  boat  receded  and  the  sun  sank,  there  was 
a  gradual  lengthening  out  of  the  silhouette 
until  it  vanished,  but  during  its  best  moments 
the  design  was  worthy  of  a  Canova  or  a 
Thorwaldsen.  It  was  as  though  one  of  these 
great  modern  rejuvenators  of  the  classic  an- 
tique had  climbed  into  the  heights  and 
blocked  out  there  upon  that  topmost  slope, 
with  Herculean  stencil,  a  giant  head  that 
should  epitomize  admiration  for  the  noble 
lines  and  the  perennial  art  of  ancient  Greece. 

Lecco 

After  one  has  seen  the  notable  beauty 
spots  of  Lake  Como,  —  such  as  Bellagio  and 
the  Tremezzina,  —  the  Bay  of  Lecco  is  per- 
haps not  particularly  impressive,  nor  the 

229 


The  Italian  Lakes 

town  especially  pleasing.  By  contrast  with 
those  show-places,  Lecco,  the  town,  looks 
distinctly  industrial.  Indeed  it  is  a  very 
active  centre  of  trade  and  traffic  by  reason 
of  silk,  cotton,  and  iron-ware  factories  and 
by  means  of  its  periodical  markets.  Every 
Saturday,  for  instance,  during  the  silk-co- 
coon season  there  is  a  market  at  Lecco  de- 
voted to  this  staple  product  of  the  country. 
It  acts  as  a  sort  of  exchange  for  much  of  the 
Brianza,  and  along  with  the  silk  cocoons 
many  of  the  silver  hair  needles  and  wooden 
slippers  of  the  women  of  Lake  Como  find 
their  way  to  Lecco. 

The  water-front  of  Lecco  is  not  decidedly 
picturesque,  nor  is  there  much  of  that  colour 
which  redeems  so  much  disorder  in  Italy. 
At  the  same  time  the  toothed  mountain  at 
the  back,  the  Resegnone,  is  striking,  and 
there  is  a  pretty  little  village  on  the  opposite 
shore  called  Malgrate. 


230 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  DILIGENCE 

AT  Chiavenna  and  thereabouts  the  pres- 
ence of  the  diligence  still  confronts  the  trav- 
eller with  its  particular  memories  of  lei- 
surely travel. 

The  railroad  is  fast  crowding  the  good  old 
stage-coach  off  most  of  the  lines  of  travel  in 
the  Alps.  It  has  long  since  done  so  in  the 
plains.  We  are  witnessing  the  slow  extinc- 
tion of  a  peculiar  method  of  transportation, 
the  few  reminders  of  which  will  presently 
find  themselves  among  the  curiosities  of  the 
lumber-room,  or  will  be  catalogued  in  mu- 
seums under  the  head  of  the  history  of  travel, 
and  labelled  in  a  list  beginning  with  the 
ox-cart  and  ending  with  the  flying  machine. 
The  diligence  is  daily  growing  to  be  more 
and  more  of  a  memory.  In  some  parts  of 
the  Alps  it  already  belongs  to  the  good  old 
times.  Therefore  its  reminiscence  should  be 
promptly  chronicled. 

231 


The  Italian  Lakes 

There  are  railroad  plans  and  counter-plans 
for  tunnelling,  spanning,  circling,  overcom- 
ing, and  generally  circumventing  the  Alps. 
New  inventions  and  novel  appliances  are 
being  brought  to  bear  on  the  transit  problem, 
making  startling  promises  and  raising  grand 
hopes.  Especially  is  little  Switzerland  busy 
in  this  attack  upon  the  integrity  of  the  Alps. 
After  making  its  own  valleys  and  peaks  ac- 
cessible to  the  tourist  world,  it  has  drawn 
its  big  neighbours  into  connivance  to  destroy 
the  aloofness  of  the  great  European  back- 
bone and  lower  its  pride.  Two  historic  tun- 
nels already  connect  the  progressive  little 
republic  with  Italy  and  the  Italian  lakes, 
namely,  those  of  the  St.  Gothard  and  the 
Simplon.  France  has  its  Mont  Cenis  on  the 
west  and  Austria  its  Brenner  on  the  east, 
both  placing  the  traveller  within  short  dis- 
tances of  the  lakes.  Other  connections  must 
follow  in  due  time,  every  fresh  enterprise  of 
this  sort  displacing  some  old-established  line 
of  diligences  and  relegating  these  vehicles 
to  a  past  which  is  not  without  its  cherished 
and  particular  adventures. 

Therefore,  without  permitting  ourselves  to 
disparage  in  the  least  the  virtues  of  train 
and  steam  or  electric  traffic,  virtues  which 

232 


The  Diligence 

are  many  and  welcome,  let  fancy  range  for 
awhile  over  the  achievements  and  merits  of 
the  diligence  as  a  means  of  travel. 

It  would  seem  that  the  children  have  been 
the  ones  to  appreciate  the  merits  of  the  dili- 
gence even  more  than  their  elders.  They 
have  had  no  sense  of  responsibility  for  en- 
gaging places,  for  seeing  the  baggage  on,  for 
making  sure  of  rooms  at  the  end  of  the  jour- 
ney; they  have  felt  no  pressure  to  arrive  on 
time,  or  to  make  connections  anywhere  with 
anything.  They  have  been  care-free,  tuned 
to  enjoy  the  exhilarating  sense  of  being  on 
the  go,  in  a  large-sized  carriage,  from  which 
they  have  actually  been  allowed  to  get  out 
and  walk  up-hill.  The  elders  might  com- 
plain of  the  dust  or  expostulate  against  the 
scorching  sun,  but  nothing  could  destroy  for 
the  children  that  delightfully  adventurous 
sensation  of  going  on  and  on  into  the  great 
world,  not  knowing  whither  and  not  needing 
to  know. 

The  pace  of  the  diligence  may  be  slow,  but 
it  moves  to  its  destination  from  valley  to 
slope,  from  zigzag  to  pass,  up  hill  and  down 
dale  in  such  a  way  as  to  let  the  country  be 
seen.  The  telegraph-poles  do  not  fly  past, 
but  succeed  each  other  without  losing  a  deco- 

233 


The  Italian  Lakes 

rous  identity.  It  is  possible  to  sight  a  fa- 
vourite flower  or  bird  on  the  edge  of  the  for- 
est, to  catch  a  smile  or  return  a  greeting  from 
a  wayside  cottage,  to  see  the  haymakers  in 
the  field  and  the  women  drawing  water  at 
the  village  fountain. 

The  equipment  and  accoutrements  of  dili- 
gence travel  vary  in  the  different  portions 
of  the  Alps,  from  Savoy  through  Switzer- 
land to  Tyrol  and  Styria,  but  resemblances 
are  many.  The  coaches  are  invariably  yel- 
low. On  the  great  Swiss  diligences  there  is 
a  glass-covered  box  in  front  and  a  hooded 
lookout  up  behind.  During  the  height  of 
the  tourist  season  diligence  travel  pretty 
much  everywhere  means  getting  up  at  dawn 
and  manoeuvring  in  the  half-light  so  as  not 
to  be  forced  to  ride  inside  the  diligence  itself. 
This  seems  paradoxical.  The  explanation  is 
that  all,  except  those  who  have  secured  out- 
side seats,  want  to  ride  in  one  of  the  nice 
open  extra  carriages,  which  are  generally 
found  necessary  during  the  season.  Hence 
there  is  much  hanging  back,  quite  unaccount- 
able to  the  novice,  but  perfectly  clear  to  the 
tourist  who  has  ever  ridden  all  day  inside 
the  diligence.  Time-inured  and  season- 
hardened  tourists  aver  that  there  is  a  way 

234 


The  Diligence 

of  being  too  late  for  the  inside  of  the  dili- 
gence and  just  in  time  for  a  seat  in  the  extra 
carriage,  —  but  there  are  risks. 

Now  let  us  indulge  in  a  supposed  trip  by 
diligence,  which  shall  be  thoroughly  remi- 
niscent, and  yet  not  commit  us  to  any  partic- 
ular starting-place  or  point  of  arrival.  The 
seats  having  been  apportioned,  the  four  or 
five  horses  can  now  be  led  out  from  the 
stables.  Their  hoofs  are  blackened,  the 
strings  of  bells  around  their  necks  jingle 
interestingly,  and  the  stable-boy  with  the 
tasselled  cap  helps  the  driver  hitch  them  up. 
It  cannot  be  said  that  they  look  particularly 
gay  or  festive.  They  do  not  champ  impa- 
tiently to  be  off,  like  the  steeds  in  historical 
romances,  but  they  seem  willing;  they  can 
be  made  to  see  their  duty  and  to  do  it.  As 
the  journey  progresses,  we  learn  to  appre- 
ciate their  kindly  demeanour  even  under 
trying  circumstances,  and  at  the  various  halt- 
ing-places we  strike  up  a  speaking  acquaint- 
ance with  the  fat  one  whose  legs  are  white 
and  the  bay  mare  that  cocks  one  ear. 

We  are  off!  The  cool  morning  air  soon 
removes  all  traces  of  heated  arguments  about 
seats.  An  astonishing  alpine  freshness  per- 
vades the  whole  landscape.  A  slow-moving 

235 


The  Italian  Lakes 

panorama  of  pictures  unfolds  itself  and  con- 
tinues throughout  the  trip.  The  sun  rises, 
and  odours  of  mown  fields,  of  thyme  and 
heather,  of  larch  and  pine,  issue  from  the 
side  valleys.  Toward  noon  the  diligence 
reaches  the  outskirts  of  a  village  larger  than 
the  rest.  The  horses  swing  with  a  will  into 
its  single  narrow  cobbled  street,  their  hoofs 
reecho  loudly  and  their  bells  strike  an  im- 
perative note.  The  driver  cracks  his  enor- 
mous whip  with  professional  dexterity,  as 
the  great  yellow  coach  curves  into  the  vil- 
lage square,  where  stand  the  post-office  and 
the  posting-inn.  Another  stable-boy  with 
tasselled  cap  rushes  forward  with  buckets  of 
water.  There  is  a  noise  like  that  of  many 
pumps,  as  the  horses  get  their  noses  into  the 
buckets.  Then  the  stable-boy  pulls  some 
troughs  from  under  the  eaves  of  the  inn  and 
feeds  the  horses  with  oats  and  bran.  There 
is  some  pushing  and  shoving,  to  see  who  shall 
be  first,  and  we  are  led  to  remonstrate  mildly 
with  the  fat  one  whose  legs  are  white  for 
trying  to  crowd  out  the  bay  mare  that  cocks 
one  ear.  The  horse-flies,  too,  annoy  our  good 
steeds.  In  alpine  regions  these  flies  seem  to 
make  up  in  size  and  industry  for  the  short- 
ness of  the  summer. 

236 


The  Diligence 

Under  the  full  sunshine  the  diligence  rolls 
out  into  the  open  country  once  more.  Now 
we  pass  a  grand  hotel,  where  considerable 
fashion  is  displayed  at  little  tables,  in  the 
doorway  and  upon  a  well-placed  terrace. 
Again  we  find  ourselves  plunging  into  a  dark 
tunnel.  The  people  in  the  extra  carriage 
hold  up  shawls  to  keep  off  the  drippings 
from  the  vaulted  ceiling.  Those  inside  the 
diligence  make  note  of  this,  and  for  the  first 
and  only  time  congratulate  themselves  on 
their  sheltered  seats.  On  the  other  side  of 
the  tunnel  we  mount  a  last  series  of  zigzags 
and  so  reach  the  summit  of  the  pass.  Then 
the  driver  descends  from  the  box,  crawls 
under  the  coach,  and  presently  there  is  a 
mysterious  rattle  of  chains.  The  diligence 
has  put  on  its  shoe  and  proceeds  down-hill 
at  a  comfortable  trot,  without  danger  of 
overspeeding.  So  the  day  passes,  and,  with 
the  evening  air  drawing  down  from  the 
heights  in  alternate  currents  of  warm  and 
cold,  the  end  of  the  journey  is  in  sight.  Per- 
haps it  is  some  town-like  village  of  the  Up- 
per Rhine  Valley  or  of  the  Engadine,  or 
some  high-placed  summer  resort  of  Tyrol, 
or  some  white-walled,  sun-baked  Italian 
frontier  post.  Whenever  and  whatever  the 

237 


The  Italian  Lakes 

objective  point,  there  will  surely  be  supper 
and  an  early  bed  for  the  children,  and  for 
the  horses,  besides  their  oats  and  bran,  there 
is  likely  to  be  a  portion  of  the  rough  black 
bread  of  the  country  as  an  extra  titbit. 

Years  after,  the  children,  grown  to  men  and 
women,  will  remember  with  undiminished 
enthusiasm  the  bright  skies  and  woolly-white 
clouds  of  that  day  on  the  stage-coach,  the 
sudden  corners  opening  up  vistas  of  tower- 
ing snow  peaks,  the  gray  torrents  fresh  from 
the  mouths  of  glaciers,  the  stretches  of  som- 
bre pine  forests,  the  wide  extent  of  velvet 
slopes,  the  deep  blue  lakes,  the  patient, 
kindly  peasants,  and  the  flashing  beauties  of 
emerald,  sapphire,  and  of  scintillating  opal 
along  this  typical  diligence  ride. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

TWO    SUBALPINE    SCHOLARS:     ALESSANDRO 
MANZONI  AND  ANTONIO  STOPPANI 

IF  you  look  into  the  window  of  an  Italian 
bookstore,  there  are  two  works  which  you 
will  almost  surely  see  there  among  the  many 
exposed  for  sale.  One  is  the  famous  his- 
torical romance,  "  I  Promessi  Sposi,"  of 
Alessandro  Manzoni;  and  the  other  is  a 
description  of  Italy,  entitled  "  II  Bel  Paese," 
by  Antonio  Stoppani.  These  writers  both 
gave  new  impulses  to  young  Italy,  reflected 
its  peculiar  sentiments,  its  colour,  and  its 
glories,  and  thus  made  their  way  into  the 
hearts  of  their  countrymen,  to  find  hospitable 
lodgment  there. 

They  come  within  the  covers  of  this  book 
because  they  were  both  connected  with  the 
same  part  of  the  Italian  lakes  region,  —  with 
Lecco.  They  were  in  truth  subalpine  men. 
Manzoni  was  born  in  Milan,  of  a  family 
long  settled  near  Leccoj  and  there,  also,  he 

239 


The  Italian  Lakes 

placed  the  scene  of  his  famous  romance. 
And  Stoppani,  also,  lived  at  Lecco,  the  geol- 
ogy of  whose  surroundings  he  made  the  start- 
ing-point for  world-wide  researches. 

Alessandro  Manzoni  (/7#5  - 1873) 

It  seems  strange,  perhaps,  that  a  literary 
figure  like  that  of  Manzoni  should  have  be- 
come the  presiding  genius  of  so  prosaic  and 
commercial  a  town  as  Lecco  is  to  appearance. 
He  it  is  who  has  made  Lecco  a  familiar 
name  throughout  Italy,  and  placed  it  on  the 
lips  of  many  people  who  have  never  heard 
of  the  silk  and  iron  industries  of  the  place. 
In  the  evening,  when  the  population,  Latin- 
fashion,  pours  out  into  the  main  street  to 
talk  and  walk,  the  lamps  on  the  four  corners 
of  Manzoni's  monument  in  the  square  are 
lighted,  and  make  of  his  statue  a  literary 
shrine  for  the  strollers  to  admire. 

In  truth,  Italians  study  his  "  I  Promessi 
Sposi "  almost  as  diligently  as  they  do  their 
Dante  and  "  Divina  Commedia."  The  famous 
book  occupies  almost  the  same  position  in 
Italian  literature  that  "  Don  Quixote  "  holds 
in  Spanish.  The  first  edition  is  dated  1821; 
but  since  then  there  have  been  no  less  than 

240 


Alessandro  Manzoni 

118  editions  in  Italian,  nineteen  in  French, 
seventeen  in  German,  and  ten  in  English. 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  Manzoni's 
opportunity  for  fame  was  unusual.  In  other 
countries  the  romantic  literary  renaissance 
of  the  early  nineteenth  century  brought  many 
men  of  genius  to  the  front;  but  in  Italy 
Manzoni  seems  to  have  had  the  field  very 
much  to  himself.  Hence  his  position  may 
be  termed  unique,  which  is  not  saying  that 
he  does  not  deserve  the  admiration  so  gen- 
erously showered  upon  him.  For  the  sake 
of  those  who  have  never  read  "  I  Promessi 
Sposi,"  or  have  forgotten  the  story,  one  may 
be  permitted  to  remind  them  that  the  book 
tells  the  tale  of  two  young  people,  Renzo 
and  Lucia,  who  in  the  year  1628  and  there- 
after pass  through  many  tribulations  before 
they  can  be  married  and  remain  happy  ever 
after.  Lucia  is  abducted.  Renzo,  on  his 
part,  goes  through  thrilling  adventures;  but 
the  faithful  lovers  are  finally  brought  to- 
gether again  in  Milan,  at  the  time  of  the 
plague,  through  the  instrumentality  of  a 
priest,  Christopher. 

Manzoni  used  his  historic  material  clev- 
erly in  this  simple  story,  so  as  to  make  it 
appeal  at  once  to  the  individual  and  to  the 

241 


The  Italian  Lakes 

nation.  In  a  letter  to  his  closest  friend, 
Claude  Charles  Fauriel,  the  French  scholar, 
in  1821,  Manzoni  thus  gave  his  idea  of  his- 
torical novels  as  a  form  of  literature :  "  I 
may  tell  you  that  I  conceive  of  them  as  a 
representation  of  a  given  state  of  society  by 
means  of  facts  and  characters  so  nearly  re- 
sembling reality  that  one  could  believe  it  a 
true  story  which  one  had  just  discovered." 

The  Manzoni  family  were  originally  feu- 
dal lords  from  Sarzio  in  the  Val  Sassina, 
near  Lecco.  The  writer's  father,  Don  Pietro 
Antonio  Manzoni,  moved  down,  in  1710,  to 
a  villa  called  Caleotto,  built  by  the  grand- 
father, Don  Alessandro.  On  this  villa  a 
marble  tablet  now  records  the  fact  that  Man- 
zoni was  not  only  the  author  of  "  I  Promessi 
Sposi,"  but  also  of  the  "  Inni "  and  the 
"  Adelchi."  The  "  Inni  "  is  a  collection  of 
lyrics,  partly  sacred  and  partly  secular, 
among  which  that  one  inspired  by  the  death 
of  Napoleon  I.,  "  II  Cinque  Maggio,"  is 
said  to  be  the  most  popular  lyric  in  the  lan- 
guage. The  "  Adelchi  "  is  a  tragedy  dealing 
with  the  conquest  of  Lombardy  by  Charle- 
magne, but  containing  many  veiled  allusions 
to  the  modern  Austrian  rule  of  Manzoni's 
day. 

242 


Antonio  Stoppani 

At  school  Manzoni  was  reckoned  among 
the  unpromising  scholars,  until,  at  the  age 
of  fifteen,  he  broke  forth  into  poetry  with 
some  sonnets  of  great  promise.  He  accom- 
panied his  mother  to  France  and  lived  with 
her  there  in  Auteuil,  near  Paris.  Later  he 
returned  to  Milan  and  resided  at  Via  Mo- 
rone  No.  i,  spending  his  summers  at  Bru- 
suglio,  three  miles  out  of  Milan.  Among 
his  closer  friends  was  also  Antonio  Rosmini- 
Serbati,  the  founder  of  the  order  of  Ros- 
minians.  Manzoni  lived  to  the  advanced 
age  of  eighty-eight.  His  funeral,  in  1873, 
was  one  of  the  most  sumptuous  Italy  has 
witnessed  in  recent  times,  and  has  become 
memorable  in  the  annals  of  art  because  Verdi 
wrote  a  requiem  for  it,  which  has  since  be- 
come famous  as  one  of  the  greatest  examples 
of  that  particular  musical  form. 

Antonio  Stoppani  (1824-91) 

When  we  come  to  Stoppani,  we  find  our- 
selves considering  a  scholar  and  teacher 
whose  personal  appearance  is  still  remem- 
bered by  many.  It  is  said  to  have  been  much 
like  that  of  Renan.  He  was  born  in  Lecco, 
and  early  learned  to  know  its  surroundings 
with  singular  accuracy. 

243 


The  Italian  Lakes 

He  was  a  geologist  by  instinct  from  boy- 
hood, a  natural  collector  of  stones  and  shells, 
an  observer  from  whom  nothing  pertinent 
to  his  special  interest  escaped.  He  was  pas- 
sionately fond  of  his  Lecco.  Even  after  ex- 
tensive travels,  he  always  returned  to  it  with 
renewed  admiration.  On  the  lake,  up  the 
narrowing  valleys,  on  the  mountain-tops,  he 
was  ever  the  ardent  naturalist;  and  with 
that,  too,  the  poet  and  patriot.  He  early 
arrived  at  geological  conclusions,  the  impor- 
tance of  which  he  did  not  suspect  until  a 
savant  was  sent  down  from  Vienna  to  pre- 
pare a  treatise  on  the  geology  of  Lombardy, 
and  found  that  Stoppani  had  already  done 
the  work  in  the  rough.  Stoppani's  re- 
searches were  published  soon  after,  under 
the  title  of  "  Studii  Geologici  e  Paleonto- 
logici  sulla  Lombardia."  With  this  he  at 
once  stepped  into  the  front  rank  of  the 
world's  naturalists. 

Not  until  he  had  carefully  studied  his 
native  district,  idealized  it,  and  philoso- 
phized about  it,  did  he  turn  farther  afield, 
over  the  beautiful  peninsula  of  his  greater 
country,  Italy  itself.  In  1875  appeared  his 
"  II  Bel  Paese,"  the  most  popular  of  his 
books,  —  a  book  which  revealed  to  many 

244 


Antonio  Stoppani 

Italians  the  many-sided  beauties  of  their  own 
soil,  —  from  the  ice,  snow,  and  waterfalls  of 
the  Alps  to  the  ineffable  blue  of  sea  and 
sky  in  lower  Italy.  As  an  example  of  a 
monograph  on  a  subject  in  natural  science, 
treated  in  a  popular  style,  Stoppani's  "  What 
Is  a  Volcano?"  deserves  to  be  taken  as  a 
model.  It  was  as  teacher,  as  educator  in 
various  schools  and  universities,  and  as  pub- 
lic lecturer  that  Stoppani  left  his  mark  upon 
the  new  Italy  of  to-day. 

In  Pavia,  in  Florence,  as  head  of  the  great 
Ambrosian  Library  in  Milan,  he  helped  to 
make  the  Italians  conscious  of  their  own  pos- 
sibilities, and  taught  them  to  treasure  the 
past,  and  to  prepare  for  the  future.  It  was 
one  thing  to  give  Italy  the  appearance  of  a 
political  unit.  It  was  quite  another  matter 
to  make  it  truly  united.  Stoppani  realized 
this,  as  did  Manzoni.  He  would  have  pre- 
ferred a  confederation  first,  to  lead  up  to  a 
centralized  state  by  degrees.  But  the  fact 
of  political  union  being  accomplished,  the 
next  best  thing  was  to  raise  the  morale  of 
the  whole  people  by  every  possible  means, 
and  this  Stoppani  laboured  long  and  enthusi- 
astically to  accomplish. 


245 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

BERGAMO 

THE  portion  of  Bergamo  known  as  the 
citta,  or  ancient  city,  is  a  marvel  of  feudal- 
ism. It  crowns  a  hill  surrounded  by  monster 
bastions  and  parapets,  now  happily  turned 
into  pleasant  walks  shaded  by  great  affluent 
horse-chestnut-trees.  As  one  approaches 
from  the  Lombard  plain,  the  citta  looks  pre- 
eminently "  fit  for  treason,  stratagems,  and 
spoils,"  although,  Shakespeare  assures  us, 
that  is  exactly  the  condition  of  "  the  man  that 
hath  no  music  in  himself,"  and  yet  Bergamo 
is  noted  as  the  birthplace  of  Donizetti  and 
of  lesser  musical  celebrities,  such  as  Rubini. 

Fig-trees  and  mulberry-trees  in  abundance 
climb  up  the  fertile  green  slopes  to  the  ram- 
parts. The  houses  stand  in  serried  ranks, 
tinted  in  the  shades  of  colour  which  the 
Italians  love,  yellow,  pink,  and  blue;  while 
the  uniformity  of  the  walls  is  broken  by 
tiny  loggias.  Four  great  gateways  give  ac- 

246 


Bergamo 

cess  to  the  citta.  Up  on  top  of  the  sheer 
bulwarks  it  is  so  quiet  one  can  hear  the 
distant  talk  of  men  working  in  the  hill- 
side vineyards.  A  clock  is  striking,  and  off 
from  the  distance  the  blare  of  trumpets  ar- 
rives mellowed  and  softened.  Then,  sud- 
denly, the  sound  of  some  one  practising  scales 
on  the  piano  tinkles  and  trickles  from  an 
open  window,  and  suggests  the  musical  in- 
terest which  attaches  to  Bergamo. 

The  country  northward,  and  in  a  measure 
eastward  and  westward  also,  breaks  out  into 
hillocks  and  rolling  mounds,  the  final  spurs 
which  the  Alps  project  into  the  vast,  hazy 
Italian  plain.  On  these  fore-hills  are  fas- 
cinating bits  for  the  colourist  in  farm,  villa, 
and  castle.  At  Bergamo  the  traveller  is 
standing  on  the  very  fringe  of  the  great 
mountain  chain,  treading  on  the  tail  of  its 
coat. 

The  city  is  not  on  the  direct  line  from 
Milan  to  Venice,  like  its  neighbour  and 
mediaeval  rival  Brescia,  and  so  needs  to  be 
sought  out  for  itself.  From  Lecco  the  dis- 
tance is  only  about  twenty  miles,  and  from 
Brescia  a  little  over  thirty. 

From  1428  to  1797  Bergamo  belonged  to 
the  Republic  of  Venice.  Its  annual  fair  of 

247 


The  Italian  Lakes 

one  month,  from  the  middle  of  August  to 
the  middle  of  September,  is  said  to  have 
been  held  uninterruptedly  since  the  tenth 
century.  To-day  this  fair,  like  the  majority 
of  fairs  elsewhere,  has  largely  lost  its  com- 
mercial importance,  yet  a  portion  of  the 
city  lying  in  the  plain  is  still  set  apart  for 
its  booths.  To  be  accurate,  Bergamo  has  long 
since  overrun  the  crest  of  its  crown,  and  has 
spread  around  itself  a  number  of  low-lying 
suburbs,  or  borghi.  The  main  citta  on  the 
height  is  1,245  ^eet  above  the  level  of  the 
sea,  and  there  the  Bergamesque  families  of 
ancient  lineage  were  wont  to  dwell,  who  left 
the  plain  to  traders  and  artificers,  —  and  to 
the  fair.  In  our  day  Bergamo  is  still  one 
of  the  prominent  provincial  centres  of 
Northern  Italy,  with  considerable  industrial 
activity,  especially  in  silk. 

A  wide  modern  street,  the  Strada  Vittorio 
Emanuele,  leads  from  the  railroad  station  in 
the  plain,  past  the  fair  grounds,  to  the  foot 
of  the  old  city.  The  hill  is  climbed  by  a 
gentle  carriage  road  or  by  steep  foot-paths. 
The  traveller,  entering  at  one  of  the  gates 
of  the  citta,  finds  himself  at  once  treading 
the  wonderful  terraced  boulevards  and  prom- 
enades of  ancient  Bergamo  mentioned  above. 

248 


Bergamo 

In  the  centre  of  the  citta,  almost  hidden  from 
view,  lies  the  quaint  municipal  centre,  now 
called  Piazza  Garibaldi,  surrounded  by 
buildings  characteristic  of  local  history. 
Here  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  Broletto  or  town 
hall,  stands  on  its  columns,  leaving  an  open 
hall  beneath ;  we  notice  a  projecting  balcony 
(Ringhiera),  recalling  the  days  of  the  pop- 
ular assembly;  farther  there  is  the  unfinished 
Palazzo  Nuovo;  the  statue  of  Torquato 
Tasso,  whose  father  was  a  native  of  Ber- 
gamo, and  a  statue  of  Garibaldi.  Near  by 
is  the  cathedral  and  the  Church  of  S.  Maria 
Maggiore  with  adjoining  Capella  Colleoni. 
The  latter  was  built  by  that  condottiere,  or 
free  lance,  Bartolommeo  Colleoni,  who  was 
one  of  the  most  successful  leaders  of  the  mer- 
cenary companies  which  fought  now  on  this 
side,  now  on  that,  in  the  Italy  of  the  fifteenth 
century.  His  gilded  equestrian  statue  crowns 
his  monument  in  the  interior;  the  recumbent 
statue  of  his  daughter  Medea  is  especially 
admirable  for  pronounced  artistic  worth. 
Outside  the  Porta  S.  Agostino  is  the  Acca- 
demia  Carrara,  containing  a  picture-gallery. 
When  all  is  said  and  done,  Bergamo  has 
not  only  played  a  certain  prosaic  part  in 
Italian  trade  as  the  place  of  the  famous  fair, 

249 


The  Italian  Lakes 

and  as  sponsor  for  those  long-legged  Berga- 
mesque  sheep  which  come  from  the  near-by 
mountains,  but  it  has  also  won  a  picturesque 
share  in  Italian  art,  since  it  is  a  tradition  on 
the  Italian  stage  that  Harlequin  is  a  Berga- 
mesque,  both  in  bearing  and  dialect  Then 
there  are  the  musicians. 


250 


LOMBARD  FETE 


DONIZETTI  AND  THE  SEVEN  NOTES 

MUSICAL  taste  grows  and  outgrows.  Doni- 
zetti with  his  "  Lucia  di  Lammermoor  "  and 
"  La  Favorita "  may  now  seem  antiquated 
to  some  of  us.  Yet  in  the  operatic  world 
Donizetti  formed  an  evolutionary  link  be- 
tween Rossini,  whose  manner  undoubtedly 
influenced  him  at  first,  and  Verdi,  whose 
vigour  he  forestalled  somewhat  in  his  later 
works. 

A  tablet  has  been  fixed  to  the  wall  of  a 
house  in  the  suburb  of  Bergamo  called  Borgo 
Canale,  to  mark  the  place  where  Gaetano 
Donizetti  was  born  on  November  29,  1797, 
six  years  after  Rossini. 

Writing  to  his  faithful  master,  Mayr,  in 
1843,  Donizetti  thus  described  his  birth- 
place: "I  was  born  underground  in  Borgo 
Canale;  you  had  to  go  down  by  the  cellar 
stairs  —  where  no  light  ever  penetrated." 

As  far  as  is  known,  his  parents  showed  no 
251 


The  Italian  Lakes 

talent  for  music.  His  father  was  doorkeeper 
in  the  public  pawnshop  of  Bergamo,  with 
550  lire  a  year.  His  mother  earned  a  lit- 
tle as  a  linen  weaver.  But  his  two  broth- 
ers were  musically  inclined.  Giuseppe,  the 
elder,  leaving  his  trade  of  tailor,  entered  the 
army  of  Napoleon  I.  in  the  capacity  of  a 
musician,  and  eventually  drifted  to  Con- 
stantinople, where  he  became  chief  of  the 
Sultan's  military  music,  as  well  as  director 
of  concerts  in  the  Seraglio.  The  second 
brother,  Francesco,  also  became  interested  in 
military  music,  and  directed  the  city  band 
of  Bergamo.  For  these  details,  and  many 
subsequent  ones,  the  author  is  indebted  to 
Verzino  Edoardo  Clemente,  who  has  pub- 
lished a  collection  of  letters  and  documents 
which  throw  new  light  upon  Donizetti's 
life. 

In  1805,  Simon  Mayr,  a  native  of  Bavaria, 
but  for  many  years  maestro  di  capella  of 
the  Basilica  of  S.  Maria  Maggiore  in  Ber- 
gamo, founded  a  free  school  of  music,  to 
which  young  Donizetti  was  admitted  among 
the  first  group  of  scholars.  He  was  nine 
years  of  age  at  the  time.  Another  pupil  of 
Mayr  at  this  time  was  a  certain  Merelli, 
who  later  became  director  of  the  Imperial 

252 


Donizetti  and  the  Seven  Notes 

Theatre  in  Vienna,  and  was  instrumental  in 
attracting  Donizetti  to  that  city. 

Donizetti's  first  musical  composition  was  a 
little  piece  entitled  "  II  Piccolo  Composi- 
tore  di  Musica."  It  was  played  on  the  occa- 
sion of  an  annual  examination  in  the  school. 
His  progress  was  so  rapid  that  a  public  sub- 
scription was  raised  to  enable  him  to  study 
counterpoint  under  Mattei  at  the  Liceo  Mu- 
sicale,  in  Bologna.  Returning  to  Bergamo 
in  1818,  Donizetti  once  more  took  up  his 
studies  under  Mayr,  in  order  to  fit  himself 
as  a  composer  of  operas. 

It  so  happened  that  about  this  time  a  cer- 
tain Sicilian  impresario,  Zancla  by  name, 
happening  to  pass  through  Bergamo,  heard 
from  Merelli  of  Donizetti's  talent,  and 
promptly  gave  the  young  musician  an  order 
for  an  opera.  Thus  "  Enrico  di  Borgogna," 
Donizetti's  first  full-fledged  opera,  came  to 
be  composed.  Merelli  wrote  the  libretto. 
Zancla  produced  the  work  for  his  opening 
piece  in  the  autumn  season  of  1818,  at  the 
theatre  S.  Lucca  in  Venice.  With  this,  the 
new  composer  was  launched  on  his  career. 
"  Enrico  di  Borgogna  "  was  sufficiently  suc- 
cessful to  warrant  Zancla  in  ordering  further 
operas.  Donizetti  wrote  a  number  for  vari- 

253 


The  Italian  Lakes 

ous  companies  under  the  management  of 
this  impresario,  working  with  prodigious 
rapidity.  In  less  than  thirty  years  he  actu- 
ally produced  sixty  operas;  two  more  were 
not  brought  out  until  after  his  death.  They 
form  a  bewildering  array,  indeed,  treating 
of  a  great  variety  of  historical  subjects  which 
could  give  room  for  dramatic  handling. 

Besides  these  operas,  of  which  many  are 
quite  unknown  to  English  and  American  au- 
diences, Donizetti  has  left  us  an  oratorio, 
"  II  Diluvio  Universale,"  many  quartettes, 
piano  and  orchestra  pieces,  and  short  songs. 

It  would  be  hard  to  say  how  much  popu- 
larity Donizetti's  operas  owed  to  the  artists 
who  interpreted  them:  Lablache,  father  and 
son;  Duprez,  Grisi,  Mario,  Jenny  Lind, 
Sontag,  Patti,  Albani,  and  many  other  fa- 
mous singers. 

If  we  look  over  Donizetti's  operatic  list 
to-day,  the  eye  rests  on  "  Anna  Bolena,"  pro- 
duced at  Milan,  the  Teatro  Carcano,  Decem- 
ber 26,  1830.  This  opera  first  attracted  the 
attention  of  Europe  to  the  composer.  Doni- 
zetti also  had  a  "  Faust,"  produced  at  Na- 
ples, in  S.  Carlo,  January  12,  1832.  The 
year  1835  heralded  two  of  his  triumphs.  On 
March  i2th  "Marino  Faliero  "  appeared  at 

254 


Donizetti  and  the  Seven  Notes 

the  Italian  theatre  in  Paris,  and  was  received 
with  utmost  enthusiasm  by  the  public  and 
press  of  that  city.  On  the  26th  of  September, 
the  since  widely  known  "  Lucia  di  Lammer- 
moor"  had  an  instantaneous  success  at  the 
S.  Carlo  in  Naples.  In  1840  followed  two 
operas  which  have  shown  extraordinary  stay- 
ing powers :  "  La  Figlia  del  Reggimento  " 
(Paris,  Opera  Comique,  February  nth) 
and  "La  Favorita "  (also  in  Paris,  but  at 
the  Theatre  of  the  Opera,  December  2d). 

Finally,  Donizetti's  "  Linda  di  Chamou- 
nix "  took  him  to  Vienna,  whither  Merelli, 
his  former  schoolmate  under  Mayr  and  his 
first  librettist,  had  invited  him.  Soon  after, 
Donizetti  was  made  Kapellmeister  to  the 
Austrian  court,  and  we  find  him  thereafter 
oscillating  continually  between  Vienna,  Paris, 
Milan,  and  Rome. 

It  was  in  1843,  while  in  Paris,  putting  his 
"  Don  Sebastiano  di  Portogallo "  (libretto 
by  Scribe)  on  the  stage,  that  Donizetti 
showed  the  first  symptoms  of  breaking  down. 
He  suffered  much  anxiety  and  worry  in 
connection  with  this  opera.  Furthermore, 
it  was  not  entirely  successful. 

In  the  fall  of  1847,  Donizetti  was  brought 
back  to  Bergamo,  where  he  silently  passed 

255 


The  Italian  Lakes 

away  the  next  year.  A  tablet  in  the  Via 
Gaetano  Donizetti  marks  the  house  where  he 
died,  fifty-one  years  of  age. 

In  S.  Maria  Maggiore,  near  the  cathedral, 
stands  the  monumental  tomb  erected  to  his 
memory  by  his  brothers.  It  is  the  work  of 
Vicenzo  Vela,  a  sculptor  who,  as  has  been 
noted  before,  has  left  a  great  deal  that  is 
excellent  in  the  region  of  the  Italian  lakes 
and  in  the  Southern  Alps. 

On  top,  a  symbolical  figure  of  Harmony, 
prostrate  with  grief,  sits  and  mourns.  Doni- 
zetti's head  appears  in  a  medallion  furnished 
with  two  eagles'  wings,  to  express  the  pro- 
digious rapidity  of  his  musical  faculty.  The 
keyboard  of  an  old  harpsichord  is  also  rep- 
resented. 

But  the  part  of  this  monument  which  at- 
tracts special  attention  is  a  frieze  on  the 
pedestal. 

Seven  cherubs  in  bas-relief  symbolize  the 
seven  notes,  each  with  a  lyre,  and  each  ex- 
pressing grief  in  a  different  manner.  Do 
seems  uncertain  what  to  do  with  his  lyre, 
and  so  holds  it  joyously  before  him;  there 
is  happy  expectation  on  his  plump  cheeks, 
on  his  rosebud  parted  lips,  and  in  his  up- 
turned eyes.  Re  is  about  to  hurl  his  lyre 

256 


Donizetti  and  the  Seven  Notes 

to  the  ground ;  he  wears  a  Greek  fillet  on  his 
baby  brow,  an  expression  of  passing  petu- 
lance momentarily  clouds  his  dimpled  face. 
Mi  has  tucked  his  lyre  under  his  arm,  and 
is  holding  some  scanty  drapery  to  a  weeping 
eye.  Fa,  distinguished  by  a  Psyche-knot,  is 
kneeling  with  face  buried  in  hands,  a  gar- 
ment thrown  over  the  lyre.  Sol  pretends  to 
be  very  angry  indeed,  for  he  is  deliberately 
pulling  his  lyre  to  pieces,  regardless  of  con- 
sequences. La  seems  to  show  temper  by 
stamping  on  the  inoffensive  instrument;  he 
looks  every  inch  a  beautiful  young  seraph; 
but  he  stands  in  front  of  Si  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  one  cannot  well  make  out  what  the 
latter  is  doing. 

Never  was  a  musician's  tomb  so  appro- 
priately decorated,  or  the  notes  so  daintily 
expressed  in  sculpture,  —  the  arch  little  notes 
that  do  homage  to  the  master.  This  happy 
artistic  conceit  deserves  to  be  widely  known 
and  admired,  but  Bergamo,  as  already  inti- 
mated, does  not  lie  directly  on  the  beaten 
track.  Occasionally  a  foreign  silk  merchant 
pays  it  a  visit,  for,  with  neighbouring  Bres- 
cia, Bergamo  collects  and  distributes  many 
millions  of  cocoons  annually.  Perhaps  a 
historian  or  two  may  find  the  way  thither, 

257 


The  Italian  Lakes 

or  a  painter  in  search  of  old  masters,  but 
more  rarely  a  musician,  to  do  honour  to  the 
composer,  some  of  whose  works  still  hold 
the  boards  so  valiantly  in  many  parts  of  the 
world  after  so  many  years. 


258 


LAGO  D'ISEO  AND  LADY  MARY  WORTLEY 
MONTAGU 

THE  Lake  of  Iseo  stands  more  aloof  and 
withdrawn  from  travel,  both  of  the  ordinary 
kind  and  of  the  tourist  variety,  than  the  other 
Italian  lakes.  It  is  still  waiting  in  a  measure 
to  be  discovered  or  rediscovered,  as  the  case 
may  be.  If  one  wishes  to  gain  an  idea  of 
the  atmosphere  which  pervaded  the  other 
Italian  lakes  before  the  era  of  modern  cos- 
mopolitan travel  reached  them,  when  they 
were  still  wholly  local  and  circumscribed 
within  Italian  habits  and  customs,  then  Lago 
d'Iseo  of  to-day  may  fairly  serve  as  an  ex- 
ample. While  the  rest  of  the  world  has 
progressed  into  the  twentieth  century,  the 
banks  of  Lago  d'Iseo  are  still  dreaming  in 
the  eighteenth,  crude  and  primitive  from  one 
standpoint  and  fascinating  from  another. 

There  are  certain  aspects  of  this  lake 
259 


The  Italian  Lakes 

which  recall  Lake  Lugano,  though  Iseo  has 
less  forest  and  more  blue  in  its  mountain 
shadows.  The  steamboats,  too,  are  about  on 
a  par  with  those  of  Lugano.  Again,  a  mo- 
mentary intensity  of  water-colouring  or  a 
shore  outline  will  suddenly  conjure  up  the 
Achensee  in  Tyrol.  At  the  upper  end,  where 
the  stream  of  the  Oglio  brings  down  much 
melted  snow  from  the  great  white  Adamello 
range,  the  water  in  June  assumes  the  pale 
opaque  blue  characteristic  of  the  Lake  of 
Brienz  in  Switzerland. 

But  Lago  d'Iseo  is  certainly  not  any  one 
of  these  lakes,  it  is  distinctly  itself;  its  shores, 
though  subalpine,  have  the  slap-dash  of 
Southern  Italy  and  are  almost  Neapolitan  in 
spots. 

Lago  d'Iseo  is  long  and  narrow,  —  some 
fifteen  miles  long  and  only  from  one  to  three 
miles  wide.  It  is  superbly  dominated  at  the 
northern  end  by  the  snow  mountains  of  the 
Adamello  group.  John  Addington  Symonds 
writes  of  it  as  "  sterner,  solitary  Lake  Iseo/' 
in  comparison  with  the  other  Italian  lakes. 
The  customary  approaches  on  the  south  are 
from  Bergamo  to  Lovere,  and  from  Brescia 
to  the  town  of  Iseo;  or,  on  the  north,  from 
the  Val  Camonica  to  Lovere. 

260 


Lago  d'  Iseo 

Taking  the  steamboat  from  Iseo  for  the 
trip  up  the  lake  to  Lovere,  the  first  impres- 
sion the  traveller  receives  is  undoubtedly  that 
of  the  remote  romanticism  of  the  landscape, 
into  which  a  sense  of  adventure  creeps  as  we 
advance. 

There  is  nothing  remarkable  about  the 
peat  bogs  at  the  southern  approach  to  the 
lake,  the  place  Iseo  itself  looks  flat  and  prim- 
itive, but  once  fairly  launched  on  the  wa- 
ters the  interest  grows  with  every  mile.  At 
Tavernola  there  has  been  recently  a  great 
landslide,  then  comes  a  little  island  with 
church,  loggia,  and  walls  effectively  grouped; 
farther  on  rises  a  large  rocky  island,  Monti- 
sola,  gaunt  and  sterile  above,  but  its  feet 
clothed  with  fishing  villages,  Peschiera,  Ma- 
raglio,  and  Siviano.  This  island  is  actually 
the  largest  of  any  on  the  Italian  lakes.  The 
nets  are  out  drying  and  being  mended  along- 
shore, so  that  Bergamo  and  Brescia  may 
receive  the  result  of  the  catch.  At  Sale 
Marasino  the  eye  is  attracted  up  the  steep 
mountainside  to  a  house  painted  in  red  and 
yellow.  A  woman  is  seen  in  the  act  of  step- 
ping out  upon  a  balcony  and  throwing  back 
a  green  blind.  She  seems  to  stand  there  a 
long  time  immovably,  and  as  you  continue 

261 


The  Italian  Lakes 

to  watch  without  detecting  any  motion,  the 
conviction  at  last  dawns  upon  you  that  you 
have  been  caught  once  more  by  a  familiar 
but  genial  Italian  trick  born  of  exuberant 
fancy,  —  the  woman  is  painted  on  the  side 
of  the  house. 

Now  comes  another  island,  small  and  de- 
serted, with  the  ruins  of  what  might  once 
have  been  a  fort.  Many  olive-trees  clothe 
the  banks,  and,  of  course,  the  washerwomen 
are  there  doing  the  family  washing  as  on 
the  shores  of  all  the  other  Italian  lakes.  The 
same  heavy-laden  barges,  too,  are  crawling 
before  a  fair  wind.  At  Marone  a  man  comes 
aboard  with  a  bicycle  and  throws  a  modern 
note  into  the  picture.  After  touching  at  sev- 
eral more  stations,  the  steamboat  turns 
straight  for  Lovere,  the  imposing-looking 
crescent-shaped  town  at  the  upper  end  of 
the  lake. 

Seen  from  a  distance,  Lovere,  with  its  line 
of  trees  on  the  quay,  its  arcaded  houses  and 
prominent  balconies,  looks  almost  citified 
after  the  tiny  places  along  the  shores  of  Lago 
d'Iseo,  which  have  been  seen  on  the  way 
up. 

There  is  a  touch  of  Naples  about  Lovere's 
water-front,  it  looks  so  architectural,  but, 

262 


Lago  d'Iseo 

like  the  larger  city,  Lovere  on  nearer  ac- 
quaintance turns  to  the  visitor  a  decidedly 
shabby  side  and  a  less  favourable  interior. 
A  long  arcaded  building  at  the  southern  end 
of  the  town  is  called  the  Accademia  Tadini, 
and  contains  a  collection  of  paintings.  There 
is  a  fine  church  and  a  collegia  on  the  hill, 
with  long  porticos.  A  really  charming  hotel 
has  been  built  at  the  northern  end,  and  small 
as  the  place  is,  it  possesses  no  less  than  three 
monuments,  one  to  Garibaldi,  another  to  the 
soldiers  of  the  war  of  independence,  and  a 
third  to  a  Count  Tadini.  It  was  not  the  fault 
of  the  good  townspeople  that  a  fourth  mon- 
ument does  not  grace  the  esplanade,  if  ru- 
mour is  to  be  believed.  As  will  be  related 
later,  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu  claimed 
that  she  had  great  difficulty  in  restraining 
the  citizens  from  putting  up  a  statue  to  her, 
as  a  mark  of  the  honour  her  residence  con- 
ferred upon  them. 

The  ancient  Albergo  Leon  d'Oro,  the 
Golden  Lion  of  Lovere,  is  reputed  to  be 
more  than  four  hundred  years  old.  As  a 
hotel,  it  is  almost  incredibly  picturesque  and 
queer.  You  enter  into  a  dark,  forbidding 
courtyard,  containing  a  fountain  and  basin. 
A  flight  of  steps  mounts  to  the  dining-room 

263 


The  Italian  Lakes 

on  an  upper  floor,  where  a  sort  of  loggia 
overlooking  the  lake  is  capable  of  being  used 
on  fine  days.  About  two  miles  south  of  Lo- 
vere,  by  the  road  to  Bergamo,  is  the  striking 
gorge  called  the  Orrido  di  Tinazzo. 

As  the  sun  declines  before  our  eyes,  the 
first  impression  of  Lago  d'Iseo  deepens  into 
conviction;  its  aloofness  and  romanticism 
mark  it  as  a  thing  apart,  a  forgotten  corner. 
The  people  have  no  distinctive  costume  any 
more,  doubtless  much  of  its  eighteenth  cen- 
tury gaiety,  as  depicted  by  Lady  Montagu, 
has  evaporated  with  the  fall  of  the  Venetian 
Republic,  of  which  the  lake  once  formed  a 
part,  and  modern  industry,  in  the  shape  of  a 
large  iron  foundry,  has  placed  a  utilitarian 
stamp  upon  Lovere,  yet,  with  all  these 
changes,  the  town  has  charm  to-day.  The 
blare  of  the  trumpets  from  a  detachment 
of  Alpini  troops  resounds  through  the  streets, 
barges  have  hoisted  huge  square  sails  for  a 
fair  wind,  and  over  on  the  eastern  shore  cat- 
tle are  tramping  on  the  highway  to  the 
mountains. 

There  is  life  and  there  is  light  and  much 
colour  on  land  and  water  and  in  the  sky 
that  arches  over  Lago  d'Iseo. 


264 


Lady  Mary  IVortley  Montagu 

Lady  Mary  Worthy  Montagu   (idQO- 
1762) 

Lady  Montagu's  career  stamped  her  as  an 
extraordinary  figure  in  the  diplomatic  and 
literary  circles  of  Europe  during  the  period 
prior  to  the  American  and  French  revolu- 
tions. She  was  the  daughter  of  Lord  Dor- 
chester, later  the  Duke  of  Kingston,  and  of 
Lady  Mary  Fielding,  a  cousin  of  the  novel- 
ist. As  a  child,  clever  and  attractive,  she 
developed  into  a  brilliant  woman  in  the  so- 
ciety of  London.  At  the  age  of  twenty  she 
translated  the  Enchiridion  of  Epictetus.  She 
was  a  friend  of  Addison,  Pope,  and  of  others 
who  belonged  to  the  literary  coterie  of  her 
day. 

Her  husband  having  been  appointed  Brit- 
ish ambassador  to  the  Porte,  she  resided  in 
Turkey  for  two  years.  It  is  said  that  she 
was  the  third  Englishwoman  known  to  have 
visited  Turkey,  and  it  was  there  that  she 
wrote  those  of  her  famous  "  Letters  "  which 
described  the  Oriental  life  of  that  time.  This 
she  did  with  much  clearness  and  liveliness  of 
style.  Upon  her  return  from  the  East  she 
lived  for  twenty  years  in  England.  In  1739, 
thinking  to  benefit  her  health,  and  perhaps 

265 


The  Italian  Lakes 

also  because  of  her  growing  unpopularity  in 
certain  circles,  she  decided  to  leave  England 
and,  with  her  husband's  consent,  took  up 
her  residence  upon  the  Continent  of  Europe. 
She  travelled  to  Venice,  Rome,  and  Na- 
ples, then  settled  for  a  time  in  a  palace  at 
Brescia. 

It  was  from  Brescia  that,  upon  the  advice 
of  her  physician,  she  went  to  Lovere  on  Lago 
d'Iseo,  situated  at  that  time  in  territory  of 
the  Venetian  Republic.  This  was  in  the  year 
1747.  Lovere  became  in  fact  her  regular 
residence  for  some  years.  She  bought  a  de- 
serted palace  there,  as  well  as  a  dairy-house 
and  a  farm  in  the  neighbourhood.  On  the 
banks  of  Lago  d'Iseo  she  planned  her  garden 
and  read  the  books  her  daughter,  the  Count- 
ess of  Bute,  sent  her  out  from  England, 
entertaining  the  local  gentry  and  nobility, 
and  in  general  enjoyed  herself  in  the  hearty, 
sprightly,  and  independent  fashion  which 
was  characteristic  of  her.  She  made  occa- 
sional visits  to  Genoa  and  Padua.  In  1758 
she  settled  for  three  years  in  Venice,  and 
did  not  return  to  England  until  1761,  where 
she  died  in  the  course  of  the  year  1762. 

Turning  over  the  leaves  of  Lady  Mon- 
tagu's "  Works,"  as  published  in  London  in 

266 


Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu 

1817,  one  comes  across  many  letters  dated 
from  Louvere  (Lovere),  giving  interesting 
little  pictures  of  life  in  this  secluded  piece 
of  Italian  territory  during  the  period  preced- 
ing the  great  European  upheaval.  These 
letters  are  addressed  to  her  daughter,  the 
Countess  of  Bute.  Without  classification,  or 
chronological  order,  the  following  excerpts 
are  presented  as  containing  interesting  de- 
tails. 

In  a  letter  dated  July  21,  1747,  Lady 
Montagu  writes: 

"  I  am  now  in  a  place  the  most  beautifully 
romantic  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  ...  I  had 
the  ill  luck  to  be  surprised  with  a  storm  on 
the  lake,  that  if  I  had  not  been  near  a  little 
port  (where  I  passed  a  night  in  a  very  poor 
inn),  the  vessel  might  have  been  lost.  A 
fair  wind  brought  me  hither  next  morning 
early.  .  .  .  The  whole  lake  of  Iseo  ...  is 
all  surrounded  with  these  impassable  moun- 
tains, the  sides  of  which,  toward  the  bottom, 
are  so  thick  set  with  villages  (and  in  most 
of  them  gentlemen's  seats)  that  I  do  not 
believe  there  is  anywhere  above  a  mile  dis- 
tance one  from  another,  which  adds  very 
much  to  the  beauty  of  the  prospect." 

In  writing  of  life  in  Lovere  she  mentions 
267 


The  Italian  Lakes 

an  opera  "which  is  performed  three  times 
in  the  week,"  also  "  diversions  on  the  water, 
where  all  the  town  assembles  every  night, 
and  never  without  music;  but  we  have  none 
so  rough  as  trumpets,  kettle-drums,  and 
French  horns:  they  are  all  violins,  lutes, 
mandolins,  and  flutes  doux."  Writing  Feb. 
2,  1747,  she  states:  "We  have  hitherto  had 
no  winter,  to  the  great  sorrow  of  the  people 
here,  who  are  in  fear  of  wanting  ice  in  the 
summer,  which  is  as  necessary  as  bread." 
A  letter  of  Aug.  22,  1749,  states:  "We 
are  all  very  quiet  here,  all  the  beau  monde 
being  hurried  away  to  the  fair  at  Ber- 
gamo." 

On  June  19,  1751,  she  informs  her  daugh- 
ter that  "  this  little  town  thinking  themselves 
highly  honoured  and  obliged  by  my  resi- 
dence: they  intended  me  an  extraordinary 
mark  of  it,  having  determined  to  set  up  my 
statue  in  the  most  conspicuous  place:  the 
marble  was  bespoke,  and  the  sculptor  bar- 
gained with  before  I  knew  anything  of  the 
matter;  and  it  would  have  been  erected 
without  my  knowledge,  if  it  had  not  been 
necessary  for  him  to  see  me  to  take  the  re- 
semblance." She  declares  she  had  great  dif- 
ficulty in  persuading  the  good  people  to 

a68 


Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu 

desist,  finally  placing  her  refusal  on  the  score 
of  religious  scruples.  In  this  letter  she 
enumerates  jocularly  among  her  benefactions 
to  the  place :  "  I  have  introduced  French 
rolls,  custards,  minced  pies,  and  plum  pud- 
ding, which  they  are  very  fond  of.  'Tis  im- 
possible to  bring  them  to  conform  to  sylla- 
bub, which  is  so  unnatural  a  mixture  in  their 
eyes  they  are  even  shocked  to  see  me  eat  it, 
but  I  expect  immortality  from  the  science  of 
butter-making,  in  which  they  are  become  so 
skillful  from  my  instructions." 

In  a  letter  dated  June  23,  1752,  Lady 
Montagu,  writing  of  the  lake  and  of  her 
palace,  tells  her  daughter:  "The  lake  itself 
is  different  from  any  other  I  ever  saw  or 
read  of,  being  the  colour  of  the  sea,  rather 
deeper  tinged  with  green,  which  convinces 
me  that  the  surrounding  mountains  are  full 
of  minerals.  .  .  .  This  town,  which  is  the 
largest  of  twenty-five  that  are  built  on  the 
banks  of  the  lake  of  Isco  (sic),  is  near  two 
miles  long,  and  the  figure  of  a  semicircle, 
and  situated  at  the  northern  extremity."  She 
describes  her  house  as  an  ancient,  half-ruined 
palace,  "  with  a  very  pretty  garden  in  ter- 
races down  to  the  water,  and  a  court  behind 
the  house.  It  is  founded  on  a  rock,  and  the 

269 


The  Italian  Lakes 

walls  so  thick  they  will  probably  remain 
as  long  as  the  earth."  The  whole  purchase 
was  made  for  the  sum  of  one  hundred 
pounds. 

In  a  letter  dated  July  23,  1753,  there  are 
many  details  concerning  her  farm.  It  con- 
sisted of  a  dairy-house  and  garden  made  out 
of  a  former  vineyard,  and  described  as  "  a 
long  mile  from  the  castle."  At  the  farm 
she  spent  much  of  her  time.  It  was  situated 
"  on  a  bank,  forming  a  kind  of  peninsula, 
raised  from  the  river  Oglio  fifty  feet."  Her 
garden  was  full  of  arbours;  she  speaks  of 
making  a  camp  kichen,  where  the  fresh  fish 
was  cooked  and  promptly  eaten,  of  a  little 
wood  carpeted  with  violets  and  strawberries, 
inhabited  by  nightingales.  She  writes  of  her 
life  at  the  farm:  "I  generally  rise  at  six, 
put  myself  at  the  head  of  my  needlewomen 
and  work  with  them  till  nine.  I  then  inspect 
my  dairy,  and  take  a  turn  among  my  poul- 
try, which  is  a  very  large  inquiry.  I  have, 
at  present,  two  hundred  chickens,  besides 
turkeys,  geese,  ducks,  and  peacocks.  All 
things  have  hitherto  prospered  under  my 
care;  my  bees  and  silkworms  are  doubled, 
and  I  am  told  that,  without  accidents,  my 
capital  will  be  so  in  two  years'  time.  At 

270 


Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu 

eleven  o'clock  I  retire  to  my  books:  I  dare 
not  indulge  myself  in  that  pleasure  above 
an  hour.  .  .  .  The  fishery  of  this  part  of 
the  river  belongs  to  me;  and  my  fisherman's 
little  boat  (to  which  I  have  a  green  lute- 
string awning)  serves  me  for  a  barge." 

During  her  residence  abroad,  and  princi- 
pally at  Lovere,  Lady  Montagu  read  much 
of  the  literature  which  was  making  a  stir 
in  England,  and  passed  judgment  upon  it 
in  her  characteristic  way.  Fielding's  works, 
Smollett's,  Pope's,  Dean  Swift's,  and  Boling- 
broke's,  all  came  in  for  witty  comment  in 
her  letters  to  her  daughter.  She  had  per- 
haps most  to  say  about  Samuel  Richardson's 
novels.  She  was  also  much  interested  in  the 
education  of  her  grandchildren,  and  wrote 
freely  to  her  daughter  on  that  subject  and 
on  diplomatic  questions. 

Altogether  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu 
displayed  interest  in  a  great  range  of  sub- 
jects, her  versatility  carried  her  far  afield, 
beyond  the  boundaries  to  which  the  women 
of  her  day  were  ordinarily  confined.  Her 
daring  may  not  always  have  been  marked 
by  discretion,  nor  her  judgments  by  accuracy, 
but  it  is  quite  possible  that  her  fame  as  a 


The  Italian  Lakes 

traveller  and  a  writer  may  have  helped  to 
break  down  some  of  the  limitations  and  re- 
strictions commonly  placed  upon  women's 
abilities  in  her  day. 


272 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

BRESCIA:  ARNOLD  OF  BRESCIA;  BAYARD  SANS 
PEUR  EX  SANS  REPROCHE 

BRESCIA'S  castle  hill  accords  with  its  proud 
title  of  I'armata.  It  has  been  a  city  of  sieges 
and  the  place  of  the  making  of  arms.  It 
was  burned  and  sacked  by  the  French  in 
1512,  and  bombarded  in  1849  by  the  Aus- 
trians.  Thus  in  times  past  it  has  spoken 
mainly  of  war  and  weapons,  and  still  leans 
dependently  against  the  hill  the  summit  of 
which  is  occupied  by  the  citadel.  Originally 
a  Roman  colony,  then  a  free  imperial  city, 
Brescia  was,  like  Bergamo,  for  centuries  a 
redoubtable  stronghold  of  the  Venetian  Re- 
public. To-day  the  soldiers  on  the  streets 
and  the  trumpets  near  the  barracks  pro- 
claim a  united  Italy.  The  city  does  not  lie 
upon  the  heights,  like  the  ancient  citta  of 
Bergamo,  and  to  that  extent  is  less  striking 
as  a  picture;  with  its  situation  in  the  alpine 
fore-hills,  it  may  rather  be  likened  to  Bo- 

273 


The  Italian  Lakes 

logna,  recumbent  against  the  ample  sides  of 
the  spurs  of  the  Apennines.  Brescia's  streets, 
too,  though  narrow  enough  to  the  apprehen- 
sion of  any  one  coming  from  newer  worlds, 
are  nevertheless  wider  than  those  of  lofty 
Bergamo. 

The  conquests  of  peace  are  signalized  by 
the  works  of  its  principal  painter,  II  Mo- 
retto,  lavishly  displayed  in  local  churches 
and  galleries,  by  great  baskets  of  silk  cocoons 
being  carted  through  the  streets,  and  by  the 
beating  of  ironware  and  brass  kettles,  which 
sound  rises  to  the  ear  as  we  lean  for  a  mo- 
ment over  the  fortifications  of  the  citadel. 
From  up  there  the  eye  ranges  over  the  great 
plain  southward  and  toward  the  Alps  north- 
ward. In  the  city  streets,  from  this  window 
or  that,  there  issues  a  pleasant  and  very  Ital- 
ian smell  of  something  cooking,  —  with  gar- 
lic; a  few  men  are  stretched  out  asleep  upon 
the  sculptured  stone  benches  of  the  Munici- 
pal Palace;  the  mules  of  the  Alpini  troops 
pass  by,  laden  with  great  loaves  of  dark 
bread  carried  in  nets. 

As  in  the  case  of  most  Italian  cities,  the 
railroad  station  lies  outside  the  gates  of  Bres- 
cia, so  that  a  veritable  entry  has  to  be  made 
past  the  local  octroi  customs.  The  municipal 

274 


Brescia 

centre  of  Brescia  is  the  Piazza  Vecchia. 
Here  is  the  superb  Palazzo  Municipio,  com- 
monly called  La  Loggia,  white,  magnificent, 
and  ornate  to  a  degree.  Beneath  it  is  a 
vaulted  hall  gracefully  arched  and  columned. 
There,  too,  is  the  ancient  round  Duomo, 
called  La  Rotonda,  and  close  by  the  massive 
Broletto,  or  former  town  hall,  likewise  the 
silver  and  gold  smiths'  shops,  and  a  long 
arcade.  Not  far  off  are  the  remains  of  a 
Roman  temple  with  a  marble  colonnade  of 
ten  Corinthian  columns.  The  cella  of  the 
temple  is  now  used  as  a  museum,  and  con- 
tains the  famous  bronze  statue  of  winged 
Victory,  excavated  in  1826.  Indeed  Brescia 
contains  much  for  the  scholar  and  the  art 
lover.  The  grand  Biblioteca  Comunale  with 
valuable  parchments;  the  Galleria  Munici- 
pale,  which  is  especially  rich  in  pictures  of 
Moretto  and  Romanino;  and  the  churches 
rejoicing  in  paintings  of  the  same  artists,  — • 
all  these  open  their  treasures  to  the  searcher 
for  the  old  and  the  beautiful. 

Brescia  also  recalls  two  special  names 
worthy  of  more  than  mere  mention,  since 
they  have  become  world  possessions,  —  the 
names  of  Arnold  of  Brescia  and  the  Che- 
valier Bayard. 

275 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Arnold   (Arnaldo)    of  Brescia 

Neither  the  year  of  Arnold's  birth,  nor 
the  usual  facts  about  his  parents  or  his  child- 
hood are  accurately  known.  He  was  of  a 
noble  family,  so  much  is  known,  and  born 
probably  at  the  end  of  the  eleventh,  or  the 
beginning  of  the  twelfth,  century.  He  chose 
an  ecclesiastical  career,  and  went  to  France 
to  study  under  the  famous  teacher,  Peter 
Abelard,  one  of  the  earliest  of  the  religious 
reformers,  —  this  probably  before  the  year 
1126.  Returning  to  Brescia,  he  lived  sim- 
ply, but  was  prodigal  in  his  eloquence  against 
the  ecclesiastical  abuses  of  the  time.  Espe- 
cially did  he  set  his  face  against  the  secular 
or  temporal  power  of  the  Church.  His 
activity  in  this  direction  led  to  his  deposi- 
tion from  priestly  office  and  to  his  expul- 
sion from  Italy. 

First  of  all  he  went  to  his  former  teacher, 
Abelard,  and  taught  and  preached  in  Paris; 
then  he  sought  asylum  in  Zurich,  in  Switzer- 
land, and  taught  there.  Persecuted  even 
from  that  city,  he  seems  to  have  disappeared 
for  a  time,  to  be  next  heard  of  in  Rome 
itself.  The  conditions  in  Rome  were  peculiar 
at  the  time  of  his  arrival,  in  that  the  people 

276 


Bayard  Sans  Peur  et  Sans  Reproche 

had  declared  a  republic,  and  were  trying 
to  throw  off  the  temporal  power  of  the 
Church  entirely.  Arnold  showed  his  inter- 
est in  this  cause  by  addressing  the  citizens 
on  the  Capitol  hill  and  in  their  popular 
assemblies,  although  he  does  not  appear  to 
have  been  either  the  originator  nor  at  first 
the  leader  of  the  revolution,  but  only  asso- 
ciated himself  with  a  movement  he  found 
already  established.  For  some  ten  years 
thereafter  his  ideas  dominated  the  city. 
Adrian  IV.,  the  only  English  Pope,  drove 
Arnold  from  Rome,  and  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  the  reformer  was  soon  after  cap- 
tured and  put  to  death. 

Bayard  Sans  Peur  et  Sans  Reproche 

Among  narratives  of  the  age  of  chivalry 
the  history  of  Bayard,  the  good  Chevalier 
sans  peur  et  sans  reproche,  compiled  by  the 
Loyal  Serviteur,  stands  in  the  first  rank.  It 
is  now  almost  a  certainty  that  the  name  of 
the  Loyal  Serviteur  was  Jacque  de  Mailles. 
The  narrative  was  originally  printed  in  Paris 
in  1527.  The  Chateau-Bayard  is  in  France, 
in  the  valley  of  Graisivaudan,  about  a  mile 


277 


The  Italian  Lakes 

from  the  station  of  Pontcharra  near  Grenoble 
in  Dauphine. 

Bayard's  eventful  career,  full  of  feats  of 
arms,  was  further  marked  by  his  exploits  at 
the  siege  of  Brescia  in  1512.  The  city  had 
fallen  to  France  as  a  result  of  the  League 
of  Cambray,  but  the  Venetians  had  pounced 
upon  it  and  held  it  under  Messer  Andrea 
Gritti,  the  Venetian  Proveditore.  When  the 
French  attacked,  they  shouted,  "  France, 
France ! "  They  of  the  company  of  the  good 
Chevalier  cried,  "Bayard,  Bayard!"  The 
enemy  shouted,  "Marco,  Marco!"  The 
Chevalier  was  wounded  in  the  assault  on 
the  first  fort,  but  the  Duke  of  Nemours, 
that  gentil  Gaston  de  Foix,  and  the  rest  of 
the  French  army  used  in  the  attack,  pressed 
on  and  defeated  the  Venetians.  The  Loyal 
Serviteur  states  that  the  plunder  of  the  place 
was  valued  at  three  million  crowns,  and  that 
he  felt  sure  the  taking  of  so  much  wealth  at 
Brescia  caused  the  French  to  abandon  the 
war. 

The  Chevalier  kept  his  bed,  as  the  result 
of  his  wound,  for  about  a  month.  Then  he 
arose  cured.  He  showed  his  magnanimity 
toward  the  people  of  the  house  which  had 
harboured  him  in  a  manner  entertainingly 

278 


Bayard  Sans  Peur  et  Sans  Refroche 

told  by  the  Loyal  Serviteur.  He  states, 
4  The  lady  of  his  house,  who  always  held 
herself  to  be  his  prisoner,  together  with  her 
husband  and  children,  and  that  the  house- 
hold goods  she  had  were  his  (for  so  had 
the  French  treated  the  other  houses,  as  she 
knew  well),  had  many  imaginings.  .  .  .  The 
morning  of  the  day  on  which  after  dinner 
the  good  Chevalier  was  to  depart,  his  host- 
ess, with  one  of  her  serving-men  carrying 
a  small  box  of  steel,  came  into  his  chamber, 
where  she  found  that  he  was  reposing  in  a 
chair.  .  .  .  She  threw  herself  on  her  knees, 
but  straightway  he  raised  her  up,  and  would 
never  suffer  her  to  speak  a  word  until  in  the 
first  place  she  was  seated  near  him."  The 
good  lady  brought  Bayard  this  box  full  of 
money.  At  which  the  Loyal  Serviteur 
states :  "  The  noble  Lord,  who  never  in  his 
life  valued  money,  began  to  laugh,  and  then 
said,  '  Madam,  how  many  ducats  are  there 
in  this  box? '  She  told  him  2,500  ducats. 
He  refused  to  accept  them  at  first,  but,  upon 
her  repeated  requests,  he  finally  took  the 
money,  saying,  "  But  fetch  me  your  two 
daughters,  for  I  would  bid  them  adieu." 
Then  the  good  Chevalier,  taking  the  money 
in  hand,  gave  each  of  the  daughters  a  thou- 

279 


The  Italian  Lakes 

sand  ducats  as  a  dowry,  and  the  remaining 
five  hundred  he  returned  to  the  mother  for 
the  poor.  So  the  "  flower  of  chivalry  "  left 
Brescia,  followed  by  the  loving  good  wishes 
of  at  least  one  happy  family. 

A  dozen  years  after,  in  1524,  the  French 
having  made  an  unfortunate  invasion  of 
Milanese  territory,  held  at  that  time  by  the 
Spaniards,  were  forced  to  beat  a  retreat. 
The  loyal  Bayard  fell  during  this  retreat  as 
the  result  of  a  bullet  hurled  from  an  arque- 
buse. 


280 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

LAKE    GARDA  — THE    WESTERN    SHORE    FROM 
.  DESENZANO  TO  RIVA:    CATULLUS  AND  THE 
PENINSULA  OF  SERMIONE,  SALO,  THE  RIVI- 
ERA    (GARDONE-GARGNANO),    THE    CLIFFS 
OF  TREMOSINE 

INEFFABLE  as  to  its  blue  colouring,  which 
is  more  profound  than  the  darkest  sapphire 
and  yet  tinged  with  a  recollection  of  the 
forget-me-not,  stretching  in  a  solid  expanse 
seemingly  without  shallows  or  weak  spots, 
broad  and  majestic,  serious  and  earnest,  — 
this  is  Lake  Garda  as  it  returns  to  the  mem- 
ory after  many  days!  It  is  no  mere  pond 
of  great  size  to  catch  the  alpine  rainfall, 
but  an  inland  sea  with  a  coast-line,  with  sea- 
gulls, with  islands,  and  with  real  sailing- 
vessels.  Its  very  storms  are  of  the  sea,  rough 
and  boisterous,  and  its  length  of  wave  calls 
for  seamanship.  It  is  indeed  a  far  cry  from 
quiet  Lake  Orta,  reposing  in  its  pretty  cup 
of  vernal  green  on  the  western  extremity  of 

281 


The  Italian  Lakes 

the  Italian  lakes,  to  this  grand  body  of  water 
on  the  eastern  end,  raising  open  questions 
and  dealing  in  large  ideas,  set  off  by  long- 
drawn  mountain  ranges  and  remote  back- 
grounds. 

In  travelling  from  west  to  east,  from  the 
mountains  to  the  sea,  Lake  Garda  acts  as  a 
preparation  for  the  Adriatic.  Whatever  the- 
ory or  theories  may  be  held  to  account  for 
the  origin  of  the  other  Italian  lakes,  Lake 
Gafda  itself  gives  many  topographical  tokens 
of  being  a  remnant  sea,  separated  from  the 
parent  branches  east  and  west  Its  affinities 
lie  with  Genoa  and  Venice  rather  than  with 
the  lesser  alpine  lakes.  It  has  moments  that 
recall  even  the  Bay  of  Naples,  or  the  Gulf 
of  Levantine  Smyrna. 

At  the  southern  end,  by  Desenzano,  the 
shores  of  Lake  Garda  are  flat,  and  there  the 
lake  gives  the  appearance  of  advancing  into 
the  Italian  plain,  but  its  upper  end,  at  Riva, 
is  enclosed  in  great  masses  of  frowning  and 
rugged  heights.  Therefore,  looking  the 
length  of  the  lake  from  the  shore-front  of  the 
northern  end,  toward  Desenzano,  the  water  is 
seen  to  reach  to  the  very  horizon  line  and 
seems  even  to  dip  a  little  over  the  edge. 
From  there  one  involuntarily  exclaims,  the 

282 


Lake  Garda 

sea,  the  sea!  It  is  as  though  one  were  scan- 
ning a  limitless,  trackless  expanse  of  colour, 
as  rich  and  vivid  as  the  waters  of  the  West 
Indian  Ocean. 

Indeed,  Lake  Garda  is  the  most  imposing 
of  the  Italian  lakes.  When,  after  passing  in 
review  the  special  virtues  of  wide  Maggiore, 
of  sinuous  and  smiling  Como,  of  Lugano 
with  its  emerald  recesses,  and  of  the  others, 
we  reach  Lake  Garda,  the  impression  is  that 
we  have  found  the  father  of  them  all.  Meas- 
urements show  Lake  Maggiore  to  be  a  little 
longer  than  Lake  Garda,  thirty-seven  miles 
as  against  thirty-four  and  one-half  miles,  but 
Lake  Maggiore's  full  extent  cannot  be  as 
readily  measured  with  the  eye  as  can  Lake 
Garda's,  and  the  impression  of  superior  size 
remains  with  the  latter.  Lake  Garda  expands 
to  a  breadth  of  eleven  miles,  and  its  bottom 
reaches  a  maximum  depth  of  281  feet  below 
the  level  of  the  sea.  These  two  big  Italian 
lakes  have  this  in  common,  however,  that 
their  upper  reaches  are  both  in  the  hands  of 
strangers.  As  on  Maggiore  the  Swiss  hold 
Locarno,  so  on  Garda  the  Austrians  rule 
over  Riva.  Hence  both  lakes  also  have  im- 
posing Italian  flotillas,  manned  by  the  cus- 


283 


The  Italian  Lakes 

toms  department  and  designed  to  cope  with 
smuggling  over  the  artificial  border. 

As  contrasted  with  the  lakes  north  of  the 
Alps,  Lake  Garda  has  a  smaller  surface  area 
than  the  lakes  of  Geneva  and  Constance.  It 
is  fed  principally  by  the  Sarca  River,  which 
enters  at  the  northern  end  between  Riva  and 
Torbole,  where  it  is  an  Austrian  stream,  and 
issues  at  Peschiera  with  the  name  of  the  Min- 
cio  and  under  Italian  rule.  The  time  of 
low  water  is  in  winter,  before  the  melting 
of  the  snow,  as  is  the  case  with  most  of  the 
alpine  and  subalpine  lakes.  Fish  of  excel- 
lent quality  are  found  in  Lake  Garda,  and 
are  sold  in  considerable  quantities  outside  of 
Italy,  in  Austria  and  even  in  France.  Trout 
and  salmon  are  still  caught  in  its  waters, 
principally  at  the  entrance  of  the  Sarca 
River.  The  right  to  fish  is  said  to  be  free 
and  unrestricted  during  the  regular  fishing 
season.  At  one  time  the  lake  was  actually 
united  at  Peschiera  with  the  Adige  and  the 
Po  by  canals,  and  thus  placed  in  communi- 
cation with  the  Adriatic,  but  this  connection 
was  severed  by  the  Venetians  in  order  to  cut 
off  the  trade  of  Mantua,  and  has  never  been 
restored.  The  lake  is  mentioned  by  Pliny 


384 


Lake  Garda 

the  Elder,  as  well  as  by  Strabo  and  Ptolemy. 
The  Roman  name  was  Benacus. 

Lake  Garda  has  all  along  shared  with 
Lake  Como  in  the  attentions  of  the  poets. 
Virgil  was  born  not  far  from  its  shores,  at 
a  little  place  called  Andes,  which  has  been 
identified  as  the  modern  village  of  Pietole 
near  Mantua.  He  seems  to  have  set  the 
fashion  for  other  poets  by  giving  Lake  Garda 
a  line  or  two,  though  expressing  his  prefer- 
ence for  Lake  Como  at  the  same  time.  In 
his  Georgics,  Book  II.,  in  a  passage  wherein 
he  is  singing  the  praises  of  Italy  and  enu- 
merating its  charms,  the  following  lines  oc- 
cur, as  translated  by  the  poet  Dryden: 

*'  Our  spacious  lakes  ;  thee,  Larius,  first ;  and  next 
Benacus,  with  tempest' ous  billows  vexed." 

Catullus  wrote  of  the  headland  of  Sermione. 
Claudian,  too,  the  so-called  "  last  of  the 
Roman  poets,"  sang  of  Lake  Garda  as  well 
as  of  Lake  Como. 

Then  came  the  mighty  Dante,  who  opened 
his  description  of  Lake  Garda  with  a  line 
which  after  many  intervening  years  still 
sings  musically  sweet: 

'*  Saso  in  Italia  bella  giace  un  laco."  (Inferno  xx.  6 1.) 
285 


The  Italian  Lakes 

This  descriptive  passage  appears  as  follows 
in  the  English  prose  translation  of  Rev. 
H.  F.  Tozier,  M.  A.:  "On  earth  in  fair 
Italy,  at  the  foot  of  the  Alpine  chain  which 
is  the  boundary  of  Germany  above  Tirol, 
there  lies  a  lake  by  name  Benaco.  By  a 
thousand  fountains  and  more,  I  ween,  be- 
tween Garda  and  Val  Camonica  the  Pennine 
Alps  are  moistened  with  the  water  which 
stagnates  in  the  above-named  lake.  Midway 
in  that  region  there  is  a  spot  where  the 
shepherd  of  Trent,  and  he  of  Brescia,  and 
he  of  Verona  might  each  give  his  blessing, 
if  he  were  passing  by  that  way.  Peschiera, 
that  fortress  fair  and  strong  to  defy  the  men 
of  Brescia  and  Bergamo,  lies  where  the  sur- 
rounding shore  sinks  to  its  lowest  level. 
There  must  all  the  water  descend  which 
Benaco  cannot  contain  within  its  bosom,  and 
forming  a  river,  it  flows  down  through  green 
pastures.  So  soon  as  it  starts  on  its  course, 
it  is  no  longer  called  Benaco  but  Mencio, 
as  far  as  Governo,  where  it  falls  into  the 
Po." 

Dante's  reference  to  the  Pennine  Alps  as 
situated  near  Lake  Garda  was  due  doubtless 
to  the  uncertain  alpine  nomenclature  of  his 
day.  The  Pennine  Alps  are  much  farther 

286 


Lake  Garda 

west  and  are  crossed  by  the  great  St.  Bernard 
Pass.  The  use  of  the  word  "  stagnates "  in 
connection  with  the  water  of  Lake  Garda 
strikes  one  as  most  inappropriate.  The  meet- 
ing-point of  the  three  shepherds  was  prob- 
ably Campione  on  the  western  side  of  the 
lake. 

Moreover,  as  though  the  names  of  Virgil, 
Claudian,  and  Dante  were  not  enough,  Lake 
Garda,  coming  down  to  modern  times,  must 
needs  engage  the  attention  of  Goethe  also,  — 
but  of  him  more  anon. 

The  usual  approaches  to  Lake  Garda  are 
at  Desenzano  and  Riva.  Desenzano  is  a 
station  on  the  main  line  from  Milan  to  Ve- 
rona, and  Riva  is  reached  by  a  narrow-gauge 
road  branching  off  from  the  station  of  Mori 
on  the  great  Brenner  route.  It  is  possible 
to  reach  the  lake  at  Peschiera,  another  station 
on  the  main  line  from  Milan  to  Verona,  or 
at  Salo  by  steam-tram  from  Brescia. 

The  special  advantage  of  crossing  from 
Mori  to  Riva  is  that  one  obtains  on  the  way 
one  of  those  sudden  views  of  extraordinary 
brilliancy  which  remain  closely  enshrined  in 
memory  and  are  cherished  in  after  years. 
The  train  mounts  from  Mori  in  the  wide 
valley  of  the  Adige  to  the  desolate  green 

287 


The  Italian  Lakes 

lake  of  Loppio,  and  thence,  after  further 
climbing,  reaches  without  warning  of  any 
kind  a  position  at  Nago  far  above  Lake 
Garda.  There  is  a  point  and  a  moment 
when  the  vast  lake  bursts  into  view  upon 
the  unprepared  sight.  It  lies  stretched  out 
to  its  full  extent  below,  mile  upon  mile  of 
powerful  indigo  and  tender  sky-blue  mixed 
in  equal  quantities,  producing  sparkling  ma- 
rine values  that  recall  the  Mediterranean. 
The  houses  of  Torbole  lie  at  our  feet,  and 
off  there  the  great  rock  and  castle  of  Arco. 
The  eye  ranges  from  the  lake  to  the  stu- 
pendous rock  formation  of  Southern  Tyrol, 
to  that  debatable  land  of  romance,  where 
Latin  and  Teuton  have  touched  elbows  for 
many  centuries,  overlapping  now  a.nd  again, 
swaying  this  way  and  that  according  to  the 
power  and  push  of  nationality  and  language 
in  each  age. 

But  let  us  suppose  that  the  exigencies  of 
our  travel  itinerary  demand  a  southern  ap- 
proach to  Lake  Garda.  Then  some  bright 
morning  the  bell  in  the  bow  of  the  steamboat 
will  call  us  to  the  quay  and  pier  of  Desen- 
zano.  An  expectant  air  moves  over  the  great 
lake,  inviting  contemplation  of  good  things 
to  come,  and  making  amends  for  the  un- 

288 


AT  THE  FOUNTAIN  IN  THE  VILLAGE  OF  SAN  TOMASO, 
NEAR  NAGO 


kempt  and  shiftless  water-front  of  Desen- 
zano.  It  is  hard  to  compliment  Desenzano 
upon  anything  but  its  inspiring  view.  Ap- 
parently little  attempt  has  been  made  to 
beautify  its  low-lying  banks.  There  is,  how- 
ever, what  may  be  described  as  a  sandy 
beach,  which  is  in  truth  a  rarity  upon  the 
Italian  lakes.  At  Desenzano  one  seems  to  be 
in  an  out-of-the-way  fishing  village  on  the 
coast  of  Calabria.  The  men  playing  bowls 
near  the  landing-place  shout  at  the  slightest 
provocation.  Day  and  night  there  seems 
to  be  so  much  to  talk  about  in  Desenzano, 
and  so  little  to  say,  that  the  eyes  turn  in- 
stinctively to  the  little  dike  and  lighthouse 
which  mark  the  lake  outlet,  in  order  to 
search  the  distant  mountains  for  peace.  And 
this  is  not  saying  that  Desenzano  is  not  an 
admirable  starting-point  for  the  lake  trip. 

As  the  steamboat  moves  off,  a  heavy  haze 
confirms  our  impression  of  the  lake's  resem- 
blance to  the  sea.  The  humidity  gives  a 
special  shimmer  to  the  air.  The  slopes  of 
the  western  shore  gleam  as  with  a  fall  of 
fresh  spring  snow  in  an  atmosphere  shot 
through  and  through  with  the  rays  of  the 
southern  sun.  Presently  the  marine  effect  is 
further  heightened  by  the  sight  of  sailboats 

289 


The  Italian  Lakes 

with  two  masts  and  sails  to  match,  brown 
and  yellow  by  turns,  as  of  Venice,  and  look- 
ing as  though  they  had  come  overland  from 
the  great  lagoon  city.  Indeed  the  sailboats 
of  Lake  Garda  are  no  mere  rowboat  make- 
shifts as  on  Maggiore  or  Como,  essaying  a 
temporary  hoist  of  sail  in  a  fair  wind,  — 
they  are  actual  two-masted  vessels.  Their 
tinted  sails  and  archaic  models  carry  one 
back  in  thought  to  old  pictures  of  mediaeval 
naval  expeditions.  The  fishing-boats,  too, 
are  quaint  craft  not  unlike  our  own  sharp- 
pointed  canoes. 

Catullus  and  the  Peninsula  of  Sermione 

The  remarkable  peninsula  of  Sermione 
gives  out  bravely  into  the  lake  not  far  from 
Desenzano,  and  our  first  stop  is  at  a  fishing 
village  of  the  same  name,  provided  with 
drawbridge  and  mediaeval  gate.  An  ancient 
castle  of  the  Scaligeri  catches  our  attention, 
with  its  battlements  and  square  crenelated 
towers.  There  is  a  castle  quadrangle  and  a 
special  port  for  the  castle.  The  tip  of  the 
headland  of  Sermione  is  covered  with  olive- 
trees,  casting  grateful  shade  upon  the  grass 
beneath,  and  inviting  a  summer  residence. 

290 


Catullus  and  the  Peninsula  of  Sermione 

Indeed  the  Roman  poet  Catullus,  a  native 
of  near-by  Verona,  addressed  some  charming 
lines  to  the  headland  of  Sermione  upon 
his  return  from  Bithynia  in  Asia  Minor. 
Thomas  Moore  has  translated  these  lines 
for  us,  and  they  are  to  be  found  in  his 
"  Poems "  under  a  heading,  "  Translation 
from  Catullus."  A  few  of  these  lines  are 
presented  here: 

«'  Sweet  Sirmio !  thou,  the  very  eye 

Of  all  peninsulas  and  isles 
That  in  our  lakes  of  silver  lie, 

Or  sleep,  enwreathed  by  Neptune's  smiles,  — 
•         •••••••• 

Shine  out,  my  beautiful,  my  own 

Sweet  Sirmio  !  greet  thy  master  back. 

And  thou,  fair  lake,  whose  water  quaffs 
The  light  of  heaven  like  Lydia's  set, 

Rejoice,  rejoice,  —  let  all  that  laughs 
Abroad,  at  home,  laugh  out  for  me." 

Catullus  spent  some  time  on  Sermione. 
The  ruins  of  what  are  described  as  his  villa, 
his  bath,  and  grotto  are  shown  to  travellers, 
but  their  connection  with  Catullus  himself 
cannot  be  said  to  have  been  established,  al- 
though the  ruins  are  doubtless  of  Roman 
origin.  There  are  subterranean  passages, 

291 


The  Italian  Lakes 

substructions,  some  brick  flooring,  and  mas- 
sive arched  masonry.  Catullus's  thought 
must  have  turned  at  times  to  the  contrasts 
before  him  as  he  looked  up  the  lake.  Here 
the  open  water,  there  the  narrows  made  by 
the  profiles  of  the  mountains  drawing  nearer; 
here  the  olive  and  the  lemon  and  the  noon- 
day ease,  there  the  mountain  forests  and 
pastures  and  the  alpine  struggle  for  exist- 
ence. 

The  steamboat  rounds  a  rocky  headland 
rising  abruptly  from  the  water's  edge,  the 
Rocca  di  Manerba.  Some  children  can  be 
seen  on  top  herding  their  goats.  For  an 
instant  one  might  be  travelling  in  some  Nor- 
wegian fjord,  but  the  next  moment  the  eye 
rests  upon  an  island  of  the  summer  seas,  such 
as  the  Italian  lakes  alone  can  produce.  It 
is  the  Isola  di  Garda  or  Isola  Lecchi,  with 
a  chateau  of  the  ducal  family  De  Ferrari. 
In  its  general  appearance  this  island  recalls 
Isola  Bella  on  Lake  Maggiore,  though  much 
simpler  and  less  genial.  A  garden  has  been 
constructed  upon  vaulted  terraces,  and  there 
are  reported  to  be  underground  grottoes  as 
well.  There  is,  however,  no  pretence  made 
of  such  elaborate  terracing  and  gardening 
as  on  the  more  famous  island,  and  Isola  di 

292 


Salo 

Garda  looks  as  though  a  portion  of  it  at 
least  was  allowed  to  grow  wild. 

Salo 

The  steamboat  now  approaches  a  town  of 
considerable  size  and  high  colouring.  Salo 
literally  runs  riot  in  colour.  As  the  steam- 
boat passes  the  water-front  to  reach  the  land- 
ing-stage, the  tourist,  accustomed  to  the  so- 
berer north,  believes  himself  to  be  looking 
into  one  of  those  kaleidoscopic  toys  which 
give  one  a  mixture  of  all  the  colours  under 
the  sun  in  return  for  a  pull  of  the  string. 
There  are  many  gay  water-fronts  on  the 
Italian  lakes,  but  that  of  Salo,  I  veritably 
believe,  is  the  gaudiest  of  them  all.  The 
local  colour  has  run  the  gamut  of  possibil- 
ities and  is  put  on  thick  besides.  Here  is 
a  house  painted  to  look  like  wall-paper  in 
patterns ;  there  is  one  decorated  with  a  land- 
scape painting.  There  are  pink  houses,  pale 
green,  yellow,  and  salmon  coloured  houses, 
some  bespangled  with  wide  awnings,  others 
fringed  with  the  family  washing  in  many 
colours,  and  set  off  by  flowered  terraces  and 
green  arbours.  In  the  little  harbour  yellow 
and  brown  sails  are  flapping  in  the  breeze. 

293 


The  Italian  Lakes 

As  though  this  spectacle  were  not  enough 
when  seen  singly,  Salo  must  needs  duplicate 
the  whole  of  itself  in  water  so  profoundly 
blue  as  to  suggest  the  bluing  which  women 
put  into  their  wash-tubs. 

No  wonder  that  in  a  place  of  such  multi- 
coloured fancifulness  an  inn  should  be 
frankly  dedicated  "To  Lost  Time"  (" Al 
Tempo  Perduto"}. 

At  Salo  we  get  our  first  glimpse  of  that 
lemon  culture  which  is  peculiar  to  Lake 
Garda.  And  since  these  lemon  plantations 
occur  at  most  villages  along  the  western 
shore  of  the  lake  and  at  many  on  the  east- 
ern shore  as  well,  a  description  of  the  method 
of  culture  may  here  be  of  interest.  The 
lemons  of  Lake  Garda  are  said  to  be  of 
superior  quality  and  to  command  a  higher 
price  than  other  kinds.  On  account  of  the 
nearness  of  the  Alps  some  protection  must 
be  given  the  trees  during  the  winter  months. 
For  this  purpose  the  gardens  are  first  of  all 
enclosed  on  the  north,  east,  and  west  by  walls 
of  considerable  height,  leaving  only  the 
southern  exposure  open.  Within  these  walls 
terraces  are  constructed,  and  upon  them  are 
planted  the  lemon-trees.  At  regular  inter- 
vals tall  stone  pillars  rise  from  among  the 

294 


Salo 

trees,  and  these  during  the  winter  are  cov- 
ered over  with  wooden  cross-beams  and 
boards,  so  as  to  extemporize  roofs  for  the 
lemon-trees  beneath.  These  gardens  are 
often  built  directly  against  the  steep  moun- 
tainsides, thus  obviating  the  necessity  of  a 
wall  at  the  back.  In  the  middle  of  the  day 
the  roofs  are  frequently  raised  to  admit  the 
winter  sunshine. 

The  name  of  Salo  is  said  to  be  derived 
from  some  layers  of  salt  which  were  mined 
there  in  the  early  days  of  the  Venetian  Re- 
public. It  is  to-day  a  busy  town,  having  an 
interest  in  the  silk  industry,  and  it  is  con- 
nected with  Brescia,  the  great  silk-cocoon 
market,  by  a  steam-tram. 

As  elsewhere,  the  washerwomen  of  Salo 
are  much  in  evidence.  The  sun  being  hot 
at  the  time  of  the  steamboat's  visit,  some  of 
them  have  constructed  little  tent-like  pro- 
tections for  their  heads,  and  as  the  waves 
of  the  steamboat  approach,  they  scatter  and 
jump  back  from  the  water  with  much  laugh- 
ter. In  the  meantime,  out  in  the  open  lake, 
some  big  barges  lie  becalmed,  their  tan- 
coloured  sails  set  wing  and  wing. 

Writing  to  her  daughter,  the  Countess  of 
Bute,  on  Oct.  17,  1749,  Lady  Mary  Wortley 

295 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Montagu  informs  her:  "I  have  been  per- 
suaded to  go  to  a  palace  near  Salo,  situate 
on  the  vast  lake  of  Gardia  [«V],  and  do  not 
repent  my  pains  since  my  arrival,  though  I 
have  passed  a  very  bad  road  to  it.  It  is 
indeed,  take  it  all  together,  the  first  place  I 
ever  saw;  the  King  of  France  has  nothing 
so  fine,  nor  can  have  in  his  situation."  Lady 
Montagu  describes  the  palace  and  grounds  at 
some  length.  "  It  is  seated,"  she  writes,  "  in 
that  part  of  the  lake  which  forms  an  amphi- 
theatre at  the  foot  of  a  mountain  near  three 
miles  high  [We]  covered  with  a  wood  of 
orange,  lemon,  citron,  and  pomegranate  trees, 
which  is  all  cut  into  walks  and  divided  into 
terraces,  that  you  may  go  into  a  several  gar- 
den from  every  floor  in  the  house,  diversified 
with  fountains,  cascades,  and  statues,  and 
joined  by  easy  marble  staircases  which  lead 
from  one  to  another.  There  are  many  cov- 
ered walks,  where  you  are  secure  from  the 
sun  in  the  hottest  part  of  the  day,  by  the 
shade  of  the  orange-trees,  which  are  so 
loaded  with  fruit,  you  can  hardly  have  any 
notion  of  their  beauty  without  seeing  them: 
they  are  as  large  as  lime-trees  in  England." 
She  informs  us  that  the  palace  was  directly 
upon  the  water,  and  "  was  built  by  the  great 

296 


The  Riviera 

Cosmo,  Duke  of  Florence,"  and  speaks  of 
Lady  Orford  as  able  to  give  her  daughter 
"  some  knowledge  of  it,  having  passed  the  last 
six  months  "  in  Salo.  Writing  to  her  daugh- 
ter Oct.  25,  1749,  she  states:  "Three  from 
hence  is  the  little  town  of  Maderna  [Ma- 
derno],  where  the  last  Duke  of  Mantua 
built  a  retreat  worthy  a  sovereign." 

Great  changes  have  taken  place  hereabouts 
since  the  residence  of  the  sprightly  letter- 
writer  upon  the  shores  of  Lake  Garda  in 
the  eighteenth  century.  It  might  be  a  matter 
of  some  difficulty  now  to  identify  the  "  pal- 
ace "  of  the  Duke  of  Florence  or  Tuscany 
and  the  "  retreat "  of  the  Duke  of  Mantua, 
for  the  devastating  days  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution succeeded  Lady  Montagu's  visit,  and 
a  destroying  whirlwind  passed  that  way. 

The  Riviera  (Gardone  —  Gargnano) 

At  Gardone,  though  the  assortment  of 
colours  may  not  be  as  lavish  and  profuse  as 
at  Salo,  yet  the  lemon  culture  is  still  more 
pronounced  and  picturesque.  It  forms  a 
novel  picture  which  can  hardly  be  likened 
to  any  other  method  of  plant  or  tree  cultiva- 
tion. Tier  on  tier  the  white  pillars  of  the 

297 


The  Italian  Lakes 

lemon  plantations  rise  upon  the  hillsides  at 
the  back,  with  olive-trees  and  peach-trees 
interspersed  among  them.  Some  beautiful 
villas  give  the  place  distinction  and  special 
attractiveness.  Indeed  the  stretch  of  shore 
from  Gardone  past  Fasano  and  Maderno 
to  Gargnano  is  specially  designated  as  the 
Riviera  on  account  of  its  sheltered  sunny 
aspect  and  luxuriant  fertility.  Here  are 
numerous  hotels  and  pensions  for  those  who 
choose  to  frequent  these  places  as  autumn 
and  winter  resorts.  The  Germans  have 
greatly  helped  to  make  this  region  comfort- 
able and  suitable  for  a  longer  sojourn. 
Many  cypresses  stand  guard  over  this  fa- 
voured lakeside,  like  silent  sentinels  watch- 
ing over  it  from  rock  and  water-front;  the 
gardens,  too,  are  rich  in  myrtle,  camellias, 
magnolias,  and  palms.  There  are  many 
shorter  and  longer  walks  with  excursions  in 
the  back  country,  while  the  steam-tram  on 
the  lake-front  brings  this  Garda  Riviera  into 
touch  with  Brescia  and  thus  with  the  great 
world  outside. 

The  name  of  Maderno  would  seem  to  be 
a  corruption  of  the  Latin  Maternum,  and 
in  truth  the  shores  of  Lake  Garda  furnish 
many  proofs  of  Roman  settlement,  judging 

298 


The  Cliffs  of  Tremosine 

by  the  number  of  inscriptions  which  have 
been  found  at  various  points.  Wealthy  Ro- 
man families  seem  to  have  had  their  villas 
especially  on  this  west  side.  The  steamboat 
passes  Toscolano,  Cecina,  and  Bogliaco,  and 
stops  at  the  large  village  of  Gargnano,  no- 
table both  for  its  terraces  of  lemon  planta- 
tions and  also  for  the  good  fishing  which 
brings  its  inhabitants  a  tidy  sum  annually. 
The  mountains  at  the  back  contain  much 
marble,  and  in  general  their  rock  forma- 
tions are  of  interest  to  geologists. 

The  Cliffs  of  Tremosine 

After  Gargnano  a  marked  change  makes 
itself  felt  in  the  lake  scenery.  The  Riviera 
stops.  There  is  a  drawing  together  and  a 
stretching  up  of  the  mountains.  The  water 
deepens  in  colour  at  the  same  time  as  the 
heights  grow  loftier,  and  the  transition  from 
the  lowlands  at  Desenzano  to  the  rugged 
heights  at  Riva  has  begun  in  good  earnest. 
The  steamboat  rounds  a  vast  cliff,  standing 
in  the  water  like  the  side-post  of  some  titanic 
gate,  and  the  feeling  of  the  Alps  is  once  more 
upon  us.  This  impression  is  heightened  by 
the  sight  of  a  hawk  sailing  at  ease  along  the 

299 


The  Italian  Lakes 

precipices.  The  lake  takes  on  a  prodigious 
aspect,  the  shores  assume  a  fierce  and  omi- 
nous nature.  We  stop  at  the  foot  of  steep 
cliffs  to  take  on  some  passengers  who  have 
climbed  down  from  strange  villages,  perched 
out  of  sight  upon  the  highlands  at  the  back. 
We  come  to  Campione,  and  then  stop  again 
at  a  house  or  two  which  serve  as  a  landing- 
place  for  the  village  of  Tremosine,  lying  far 
above  the  lake.  A  wire  stretched  from  the 
top  of  the  cliffs  to  the  shore  is  used  to  slide 
down  packages  and  bundles.  The  passengers 
who  disembark  for  Tremosine  are  seen  climb- 
ing up  to  the  village  by  a  wonderful  stair- 
case path,  hardly  discernible  along  the  moun- 
tain wall.  Over  against  Tremosine,  on  the 
eastern  shore  of  the  lake,  the  castle  tower 
of  Malcesine  shows  distinctly.  Goethe  once 
tried  to  sketch  it,  —  but  thereby  hangs  a  tale, 
which  shall  be  told  in  its  proper  place. 

Thus  coasting  and  skirting  the  great  rocky 
plateau,  streaked  in  barbaric  reds  and  yel- 
lows, we  reach  Limone  situated  in  a  little 
bay.  The  prominent  lemon  plantations  of 
the  place  would  seem  to  have  given  it  the 
name  Limone,  but  we  are  assured  on  the 
contrary  that  the  place  has  given  the  fruit 
its  name,  Limone  being  the  first  place  in 

300 


The  Cliffs  of  Tremosine 

Europe  where  lemons  were  grown.  Goethe 
saw  the  plantations  in  1786  and  described 
them  accurately,  as  set  forth  in  the  chapter 
entitled  "  Goethe  on  Lake  Garda."  It  was 
at  Limone  that  the  French  transferred  An- 
dreas Hofer  to  a  boat  on  his  way  from  Bozen 
to  his  execution  in  Mantua. 

Lying  ensconced  in  the  shadow  of  the 
great  cliffs,  like  predatory  sharks  at  sea,  or 
pike  in  a  country  pond,  the  sharp-nosed  ves- 
sels of  the  Italian  customs  navy  watch  for 
smugglers.  A  veritable  flotilla  lies  at  an- 
chor in  the  harbour  of  Limone,  for  the  Aus- 
trian frontier  is  but  a  short  distance  up,  the 
exact  spot  being  marked  by  a  column  on  the 
shore.  At  night  these  scouts  keep  their 
search-lights  playing  upon  the  mountain 
flanks  to  right  and  left  as  though  in  war- 
time. Some  long  buildings  at  Ustecchio  and 
a  fort  farther  on  enhance  the  warlike  ap- 
pearance of  this  coast.  Presently  the  imag- 
inary line  constituting  the  frontier  is  crossed. 
The  entrance  to  the  Ledro  Valley,  with  the 
handsome  Ponale  waterfall,  is  passed.  A 
rock-cut  road  of  tunnels  and  galleries  ap- 
pears high  up  along  the  abrupt  cliff  crowned 
by  wild  towers,  and  there  at  the  end  of  the 
lake,  comfortably  sheltered  in  a  pleasant  cor- 

301 


The  Italian  Lakes 

ner,  lies  a  substantial  little  town,  unsurpassed 
upon  the  Italian  lakes  for  grace  and  charm, 
for  quiet  neatness  and  homelike  beauty,  - 
Riva,  situated  politically  in  the  Crownland 
Tyrol,  and  actually  representing  Austria's 
only  remaining  urban  foothold  upon  an  Ital- 
ian lake. 


302 


THE    CLIFFS    OF    TREMOSINE 


LIMONE,    AND    THE    ITALIAN     CUSTOMS    VESSELS 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
RIVA 

THIS  little  lakeside  city  is  quite  unique, 
not  comparable  to  any  of  the  towns  or  cities 
on  the  Italian  lakes  already  described.  Its 
atmosphere  is  Italian,  its  background  alpine, 
its  government  Teutonic;  immensely  pictur- 
esque, it  is  yet  well-ordered  and  serious; 
romantic,  yet  demure  and  dignified  to  a 
degree.  The  prevailing  mood  of  Riva  is  like 
that  of  Lake  Garda  itself,  a  little  serious  and 
earnest.  Over  against  Como,  voluble  and 
sparkling,  Riva  seems  subdued  and  in  the 
grasp  of  its  stupendous  surroundings.  For 
travellers  from  the  north  who  have  need  of 
withdrawing  at  times  and  being  left  to  them- 
selves, Riva  comes  as  a  welcome  home,  a  cosy 
resting-place,  whence  beauty  can  be  admired 
at  leisure. 

The  picture  of  Riva  from  the  lake  ap- 
proach is  one  not  to  be  forgotten.  The 
water-front  of  grand  hotels  and  stately  gar- 

303 


The  Italian  Lakes 

dens  upon  the  east,  the  miniature  city,  com- 
pact and  strong,  upon  the  west,  the  tower  of 
a  ruined  castle  upon  the  hillside,  and  the 
overtopping  height  of  Monte  Giumella  com- 
bine in  a  rare  manner  for  a  noble  effect. 

The  steamboat  lands  at  a  pier  which  leads 
up  to  the  station  of  the  narrow  gauge  line 
for  Arco  and  Mori.  There  is  another  land- 
ing in  the  harbour  proper,  the  latter  being 
generally  filled  with  picturesque  sailing-ves- 
sels, called  barche,  and  fishing  or  pleasure 
boats  of  smaller  size.  The  houses  facing  the 
harbour  on  the  north  side  stand  upon  ar- 
cades of  great  age,  ascribed  to  the  time  of 
the  Scaligeri.  Near  by  is  an  open  space  used 
as  a  market.  Everywhere  an  appearance  of 
great  solidity  of  construction  makes  itself 
manifest.  Riva,  situated  at  the  head  of  the 
lake  and  acting  as  one  of  the  portals  to  the 
Alps,  has  always  had  considerable  commerce. 
Agricultural  products  from  the  great  plain 
of  Lombardy  were  at  one  time  largely 
brought  up  the  lake  and  exchanged  for  the 
mineral  wealth  of  the  mountains.  By  reason 
of  its  excellent  harbour  and  its  warm  climate, 
it  used  to  be  called  both  the  Genoa  and  the 
Nice  of  the  Principality  of  Trent  while  that 
principality  lasted.  At  present  Riva  is  no 

304 


Riva 

longer  on  the  direct  line  of  transalpine  traf- 
fic, which  now  passes  almost  exclusively  up 
the  Adige  Valley  from  Verona  to  Trent. 

A  substantial  municipal  building  bounds 
the  market-place  on  the  west;  on  the  eastern 
side  stands  a  massive  clock  tower,  square  and 
powerful  of  aspect,  called  the  Aponale,  upon 
which  an  angel  blowing  a  trumpet  acts  as 
weather-vane.  Farther  east  comes  the  cren- 
elated fortress  of  La  Rocca,  surrounded  by 
a  moat  and  used  as  barracks.  A  street  lined 
with  palms  and  magnolias,  indicative  of  the 
genial  climate  of  Riva,  leads  to  the  station 
of  the  Arco-Mori  line.  Here  and  there  a 
loggia  or  a  fig-tree  against  the  wall  confirms 
the  southern  character  of  Riva,  while  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  here  also  that  the  traveller, 
making  his  way  north  from  Italy,  begins  to 
hear  much  German  spoken  among  the  visit- 
ors, generally  that  Austrian-German  which 
is  so  delightful  in  its  rhythm  and  kindly 
diminutives.  The  native  population,  how- 
ever, speaks  Italian,  as  throughout  the  rest 
of  Trentino.  The  tall  official  cap  of  Aus- 
tria is  much  in  evidence  on  the  heads  of  the 
military  and  customs-house  officers,  and  Aus- 
trian politeness  is  heard  in  the  common 
speech.  A  frequent  word  of  address  in  this 

305 


The  Italian  Lakes 

region  is  "  favorisco  "  or  "  reverisco"  while 
often  the  term  "  complimenti "  is  used.  In- 
deed, there  is  no  little  courteous  formality 
among  this  hospitable  people. 

Safely  ensconced  for  a  stay  in  one  of  the 
delightful  hotels  of  Riva,  the  traveller  has 
the  prospect  of  many  happy  hours.  The  day 
passes  in  a  series  of  panoramic  pictures. 

At  dawn  the  twitter  of  countless  birds  in- 
duces you  to  throw  open  your  window  and 
to  look  out  upon  the  garden  full  of  azaleas 
and  orange-trees  in  bloom.  The  birds  are 
calling  and  singing  before  the  heat  of  the 
day.  They,  like  the  hotel  guests,  are  travel- 
lers seeking  perennial  spring  in  their  flights 
from  zone  to  zone.  Under  the  window  the 
great  waxen  blossoms  of  the  magnolia-trees 
are  discernible  in  the  half-light,  and  the 
wistaria  blooms  on  the  garden  arbour.  The 
mystery  of  the  morning  hour  is  abroad. 
There  is  a  sighing  of  branches,  for  the  north 
wind  which  blows  through  the  night  is  still 
upon  the  lake,  and  a  little  boat  is  seen  scud- 
ding before  it,  wing  and  wing,  along  the 
rocky  wall  beyond  Ponale.  Near  by  the 
water  gives  the  appearance  of  being  pale 
green,  farther  off  it  merges  by  degrees  into  a 
transitional  green-blue,  a  peacock-blue  which, 

306 


RIVA,  HOTEL   TERRACE 


Riva 

farther  off  still,  becomes  any  blue  you  like 
and  every  blue  you  can  imagine,  up  to  the 
final  streak,  which  is  distinctly  ultramarine, 
intense  and  sharp,  closing  the  argument. 

By  nine  o'clock  we  are  seated  under  the 
horse-chestnut-trees  in  the  direction  of  the 
Ponale  road,  watching  the  life  of  the  har- 
bour. 

The  night  wind  has  now  entirely  ceased, 
the  lake  looks  glazed  as  far  as  the  eye  can 
reach.  The  sails  of  some  pleasure-boats  hang 
limp  at  their  masts.  Even  the  gentle  atmos- 
phere of  Riva,  however,  cannot  subdue  the 
washerwomen  on  the  quay,  scrubbing  fran- 
tically. Here  laborious  Italy  asserts  itself. 
The  unclouded  sun  visibly  dries  the  clothes 
on  the  lines,  but  the  women  will  not  leave 
their  tasks  till  the  work  is  finished.  Besides, 
they  are  expecting  prompt  relief  from  the 
heat;  in  the  meantime,  the  dancing  reflec- 
tions in  the  water  play  upon  their  faces  and 
make  them  screw  up  their  eyes.  Then  they 
tie  handkerchiefs  upon  their  heads,  but  work 
on.  The  soap-suds  float  about  in  the  blue. 
Under  the  glazed  surface  the  water  seems 
to  be  shot  through  with  a  web  of  reds, 
browns,  and  greens,  creating  a  glitter  as  of 
changeable  silk.  This  colour  complex  is  the 

307 


The  Italian  Lakes 

reflection  of  the  mountains,  which  colours 
seem  to  have  sunk  below  the  surface  of  the 
water  and  made  of  the  lake  a  great  opal. 

We  look  up  again.  A  pale  blue  line  is 
stretching  itself  steadily  in  the  direction  of 
Torbole.  Suddenly  the  line  arrives  in  the 
harbour.  The  air  freshens,  and  the  washer- 
women look  up  from  their  task.  The  ora 
is  here,  the  delightful  fair-weather  guest  of 
Riva  and  of  the  hot  Sarca  valley,  expected 
punctually  at  ten  in  the  morning  or  at  two 
in  the  afternoon,  according  to  the  time  of 
year.  Presently  the  pale  blue  line  has 
painted  the  whole  lake  a  rich  dark  blue,  and 
some  sailboats,  which  have  been  counting 
on  the  ora  to  make  port,  are  seen  to  turn  the 
Ponale  corner  and  advance  quickly  on  the 
home  run,  bellying  their  sails.  By  and  by 
the  Desenzano  steamboat  also  arrives,  and 
with  it  a  further  contingent  of  travellers  to 
rejoice  in  Riva.  This  change  of  wind  seems 
as  fixed  as  the  law  of  the  Medes  and  Per- 
sians. It  acts  upon  schedule  time,  and  regu- 
lates both  trade  and  pleasure  jaunt.  The 
people  call  the  ora  also  simply  the  aria,  and 
its  opposite,  the  night  wind,  the  vento.  It 
is  the  ora  which  cools  the  hottest  day  and 
keeps  green  the  luxuriant  gardens  of  this 

308 


Riva 

warm  region.  The  air,  though  laden  with 
the  scent  of  exotic  flowers,  is  pure  through 
the  presence  of  the  mountains. 

As  the  day  progresses  and  the  ora  freshens, 
the  lake  grows  deeper  and  deeper  in  colour, 
until  the  wind  reaches  its  maximum  strength ; 
then  comes  a  beautiful  change,  a  mistiness 
produced  by  the  air  from  the  warm  plain 
of  Lombardy  passing  over  the  cool  lake. 
This  precipitation  both  softens  the  harsh 
outlines  of  the  cliffs  and  smooths  the  frowns 
on  the  mountain  faces.  Under  this  benign 
influence  Monte  Giumella  gleams  less  for- 
biddingly, and  the  terrific  slant  of  Monte 
Baldo  becomes  a  gentle  slope.  From  the 
hotel  terrace  the  clouds  are  seen  sailing  on- 
ward in  a  vague  manner,  melting  and  re- 
forming to  no  purpose.  There  is  the  swish 
of  wavelets  against  the  parapets  and  the 
rustle  of  the  trees  in  the  garden. 

In  the  afternoon  the  crack  of  musketry 
suddenly  resounds  from  over  by  Monte  Bri- 
one  and  reechoes  through  the  surrounding 
mountains.  A  company  of  Austrian  sharp- 
shooters are  at  their  practice  range.  Later 
in  the  day  there  is  the  sound  of  the  beating 
of  the  water  with  heavy  oars,  and  two  barges 
of  custom-house  guards  dart  out  into  the 

309 


The  Italian  Lakes 

lake.  The  men  row  standing,  but  splash  a 
good  deal,  and  the  officer  in  charge  shouts 
words  of  command.  A  few  pleasure-boats 
are  seen  making  the  trip  to  the  Ponale  water- 
fall. A  loud  trumpet-call  comes  from  the 
barracks  at  set  of  sun,  and  about  this  time 
the  birds  start  up  their  evening  twitter  in 
the  rose-bushes  under  the  magnolia-trees. 
They  seem  to  have  much  to  say  and  are  eager 
to  say  it,  but  when  daylight  finally  fades 
entirely  and  the  moon  stands  directly  over 
Monte  Giumella,  only  the  nightingales  con- 
tinue to  speak  and  pipe  at  rare  intervals  into 
the  gleaming  night.  The  stars  peep  over  the 
shoulder  of  Monte  Baldo,  the  search-lights 
from  the  Italian  customs  navy  below  Limone 
sweep  the  shores  from  end  to  end,  rest  for 
a  moment  upon  upland  meadows,  where 
shepherds  are  sleeping  beside  their  flocks, 
illumine  the  crevices  in  the  cliffs  and  the 
dreary  mountain  paths  which  smugglers 
might  follow,  or  peer  into  your  room  with 
vivid  glare. 

Little  Riva  is  composing  itself  to  rest, 
and  under  the  glare  of  the  moon  continues 
to  duplicate  its  outlines  in  the  good  lake 
which  gives  it  both  name  and  renown. 


310 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

GOETHE  ON  LAKE  GARDA 

IN  the  autumn  of  the  year  1786  Johann 
Wolfgang  von  Goethe  made  his  first  trip 
to  Italy.  He  drove  over  the  Brenner  Pass, 
bound  for  Verona,  but  instead  of  continuing 
all  the  way  down  the  valley  of  the  Adige, 
he  branched  off  at  Rovereto  and  drove  over 
to  Lake  Garda  by  way  of  the  Loppio  Pass. 
Thus  he  set  the  fashion  for  subsequent  tour- 
ists, who  nowadays  make  this  crossing  by 
thousands  every  season,  generally  using  the 
convenient  narrow-gauge  railroad  from  Mori 
to  Arco  and  Riva  for  this  purpose. 

Goethe  apparently  did  not  visit  Riva,  but 
lodged  at  the  inn  in  Torbole.  In  1899  a 
delegate  from  the  Goethe  Society  of  Vienna, 
accompanied  by  an  official  of  the  district  of 
Riva,  visited  Torbole  for  the  purpose  of  de- 
termining the  house  in  which  the  great  poet 
must  actually  have  lodged.  Following  the 
indications  furnished  by  a  pencil  sketch  made 

3" 


The  Italian  Lakes 

by  Goethe  himself,  the  investigators  decided 
that  the  house  in  question  could  have  been 
none  other  than  that  of  the  brothers  Alberti, 
standing  on  the  small  harbour-square  of  Tor- 
bole,  for  in  Goethe's  day  this  house  was  the 
only  inn  of  the  place  and  was  called  the 
"  Inn  to  the  Rose."  The  Goethe  Society 
has  since  affixed  a  tablet  to  the  house  in 
commemoration  of  the  one  hundred  and  fif- 
tieth anniversary  of  the  poet's  birth.  It 
bears  the  following  inscription:  "In  questa 
casa  dimoro  Goethe  il  12  Settembre,  1 786. 
Heute  hab  ich  an  der  Iphigenie  gearbeitet, 
es  ist  im  Angesichte  des  Sees  gut  von  statten 
gegangen."  ("  In  this  house  lodged  Goethe 
on  the  1 2th  of  September,  1786.  To-day  I 
have  worked  on  the  Iphigenie,  it  has  pro- 
gressed finely  in  sight  of  the  lake.")  The 
latter  sentence  is  taken  from  Goethe's  diary 
(Tagebucher}.  In  a  letter  from  Rome  dated 
the  6th  of  January,  1787,  he  likewise  states: 
"  I  drew  the  first  lines  of  the  new  work  on 
Lake  Garda,  as  the  powerful  midday  wind 
was  driving  the  waves  to  the  shore,  where  I 
was  at  least  as  solitary  as  my  heroine  on  the 
coast  of  Tauris."  In  his  "  Italian  Journey  " 
there  are  some  interesting  letters  descriptive 
of  his  impressions  and  experiences  on  Lake 

312 


Goethe  on  Lake  Garda 

Garda.  It  must  be  remembered  in  this  con- 
nection that  on  this  trip  he  was  making  his 
first  personal  acquaintance  with  Italian  life 
and  scenery. 

In  a  letter,  dated  "  Torbole,  the  I2th  of 
September,  after  dinner,"  we  read: 

"  How  much  I  wished  to  have  my  friends 
for  a  moment  near  me  in  order  that  they 
might  rejoice  over  the  view  which  lies  before 
me. 

"  To-night  I  might  have  been  in  Verona, 
but  there  was  still  a  glorious  work  of  nature 
at  my  side,  a  precious  spectacle,  the  Lake  of 
Garda;  I  did  not  wish  to  miss  it,  and  am 
gloriously  rewarded  for  my  detour.  It  was 
after  five  when  I  drove  away  from  Roveredo 
[Rovereto],  up  a  side  valley  which  sends 
its  waters  into  the  Etsch  [Adige].  When 
one  reaches  the  top  an  enormous  rock  forma- 
tion lies  in  front,  over  which  it  is  necessary 
to  go  down  to  the  lake.  Here  the  most 
beautiful  of  limestone  rocks  exhibited  them- 
selves for  artistic  studies.  When  one  reaches 
the  bottom,  there  lies  a  little  place  at  the 
northern  end  of  the  lake,  with  a  small  har- 
bour, or,  rather,  a  landing-place;  it  is  called 
Torbole.  Fig-trees  had  already  frequently 
accompanied  me  on  the  way  up,  and  as  I 


The  Italian  Lakes 

descended  into  the  amphitheatre  of  rock,  I 
found  the  first  olive-trees  full  of  olives.  Here 
also  for  the  first  time  I  found  the  small  pale 
figs  as  a  common  fruit  which  the  Countess 
Lanthieri  had  promised. 

"  Out  of  the  room  in  which  I  am  sitting, 
a  door  leads  into  the  court  below;  I  have 
moved  my  table  in  front  of  it  and  sketched 
the  view  in  a  few  lines.  One  overlooks  the 
lake  almost  for  its  entire  extent;  only  at  the 
end  on  the  left  does  it  escape  the  eye.  The 
shore,  enclosed  on  both  sides  by  hills  and 
mountains,  shines  with  countless  villages. 
After  midnight  the  wind  blows  from  north 
to  south;  whoever  wishes  to  go  down  the 
lake  must  start  at  this  time;  for  already  a 
few  hours  before  sunrise  the  wind  changes 
and  blows  toward  the  north.  Now  in  the 
afternoon  it  is  blowing  strongly  against  me 
and  cooling  the  warm  sun  very  pleasantly. 
At  the  same  time  Volkmann  teaches  me  that 
this  lake  was  formerly  called  Benacus,  and 
invites  attention  to  a  verse  of  Virgil  in  which 
it  is  mentioned:  Fluctibus  et  fremitu  reso- 
nans  Benace  marlno.  The  first  Latin  verse 
of  which  the  subject  actually  stands  before 
me!  At  this  moment,  when  the  wind  is  con- 
stantly growing  stronger  and  the  lake  is  dash- 


Goethe  on  Lake  Garcia 

ing  ever  higher  waves  against  the  landing- 
place,  this  verse  is  to-day  still  as  true  as  it 
was  many  centuries  ago.  Much  has  changed, 
but  the  wind  still  storms  over  the  lake,  and 
its  sight  is  still  ennobled  by  a  line  of  Virgil." 

Goethe  spent  the  night  of  the  i2th  of  Sep- 
tember at  Torbole,  and  next  morning  early 
started  down  the  lake  by  boat.  The  descrip- 
tion of  this  trip  is  contained  in  a  letter  dated 
"  Malcesine,  the  i3th  of  September,  in  the 
evening:  " 

"  This  morning  early,  at  three  o'clock,  I 
left  Torbole  with  the  rowers.  At  first  the 
wind  was  favourable,  so  that  they  could  use 
the  sails.  The  morning  was  glorious,  though 
cloudy,  and  quiet  at  sunrise.  We  rowed  past 
Limone,  whose  hill  gardens,  laid  out  in  ter- 
races and  planted  with  lemon-trees,  presented 
a  rich  and  neat  appearance.  The  whole  gar- 
den consists  of  rows  of  square  white  pillars, 
which  stand  at  regular  distances  from  each 
other  and  rise  up  the  mountain  slope  in  steps. 
Over  these  pillars  strong  beams  are  laid  in 
order  during  the  winter  to  cover  the  trees 
which  are  planted  between.  The  observation 
and  examination  of  these  pleasant  objects 
was  favoured  by  a  slow  trip,  and  so  we  had 
already  passed  Malcesine  when  the  wind 


The  Italian  Lakes 

turned  completely  around,  took  its  ordinary 
direction  by  day  and  blew  toward  the  north. 
Rowing  was  of  little  use  against  the  over- 
whelming power,  and  so  we  had  to  make  a 
landing  in  the  harbour  of  Malcesine.  It  is 
the  first  Venetian  place  on  the  eastern  side 
of  the  lake.  When  one  has  to  do  with  water, 
one  cannot  say:  'To-day  I  shall  be  here  or 
there.'  This  sojourn  I  shall  employ  as  best 
I  may,  especially  in  making  a  drawing  of 
the  castle  which  lies  near  the  water  and  is 
a  beautiful  object.  To-day  in  passing  by  I 
made  a  sketch  of  it." 

The  desire  to  sketch  the  castle  of  Malce- 
sine led  Goethe  into  an  amusing  adventure, 
which  he  relates  at  some  length  in  a  letter 
dated  from  Verona  on  the  i4th  of  September. 

It  appears  that  he  was  quietly  sketching 
the  ruined  castle  the  next  morning  when  the 
people  of  the  place  began  to  crowd  around 
him  suspiciously,  and  a  man  among  them 
suddenly  seized  the  sketch  and  tore  it  in  two. 
It  must  be  remembered  that  at  this  time  the 
Republic  of  Venice  was  still  in  existence, 
and  that  Malcesine  was  a  frontier  post 
against  Austria  on  the  north.  The  Podesta, 
the  chief  magistrate  of  the  place,  with  his 
secretary,  were  both  summoned  by  the  peo- 

316 


Goethe  on  Lake  Garda 

pie.  An  amusing  interrogatory  forthwith 
took  place,  Goethe  explaining  that  he  was 
sketching  the  tower  because  it  was  a  ruin. 
But,  objected  the  Podesta,  if  it  was  a  ruin, 
what  was  remarkable  about  it.  Goethe  set 
forth  with  much  good  humour  the  value 
which  foreigners  set  upon  ruins  as  objects 
of  artistic  interest.  There  was  further  dis- 
cussion to  and  fro.  Goethe  was  suspected 
of  being  a  spy  in  the  service  of  the  Austrian 
emperor,  sent  to  make  drawings  of  the  fron- 
tier defences  of  the  Republic  of  Venice. 
Finally  Goethe  was  led  to  declare  himself 
a  citizen  of  Frankfurt  am  Main.  At  the 
mention  of  this  name  a  young  woman  ex- 
claimed that  the  Podesta  should  call  a  cer- 
tain Gregorio,  who,  it  appeared,  had  been 
in  employment  in  Frankfurt.  Goethe  soon 
satisfied  the  authorities  of  Malcesine  that 
he  spoke  the  truth,  both  by  his  first-hand 
knowledge  of  Frankfurt  itself  and  also  by 
describing  to  Gregorio  certain  people  in 
Frankfurt,  notably  some  mutual  acquaint- 
ances among  the  Italian  families  settled 
there.  As  a  result  Goethe  was  given  permis- 
sion to  go  about  at  will  over  the  whole  place 
and  visit  its  surroundings  under  Gregorio's 
guidance. 


The  Italian  Lakes 

Goethe  left  Malcesine  that  night  by  boat, 
taking  with  him  a  basket  of  fine  fruit  from 
Gregorio's  garden.  He  landed  at  Bardolino, 
a  place  on  the  eastern  shore  near  the  southern 
end  of  the  lake,  at  5  A.  M.,  crossed  over  the 
mountains  to  Verona,  and  reached  that  city 
about  one  o'clock  of  the  same  day. 

Thus  Goethe's  acquaintance  with  Lake 
Garda,  though  brief  and  hardly  worthy  of 
the  name  of  sojourn,  was  yet  full  of  zest,  and 
is  of  special  interest  because  it  gave  him  his 
first  introduction  into  the  ways  and  means 
of  Italy. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

THE  EASTERN  SHORE  OF  LAKE  GARDA  AND  THE 
TOWER  OF  SAN  MARTINO    (SOLFERINO) 

THE  traveller  on  and  about  Lake  Garda 
is  constantly  beset  by  the  sight  of  a  great 
tower  rising  from  the  plain  somewhere  be- 
tween Desenzano  and  Peschiera  and  inland 
from  the  headland  of  Sermione.  He  cannot 
permanently  escape  this  landmark  as  long 
as  he  tours  around  the  lake,  for  it  looms  up 
in  the  open  country  with  singular  persist- 
ence and  insistence.  Sooner  or  later  he  will 
ask  what  it  is,  and  the  answer  will  be  that 
it  is  the  tower  of  San  Martino,  marking  the 
site  of  the  victory  of  the  French  and  Ital- 
ians over  the  Austrians  in  1859.  This  battle 
is  better  known  among  English-speaking 
people  as  that  of  Solferino.  A  trip  to  the 
battle-field  will  take  us  down  the  eastern 
shore  of  Lake  Garda  and  give  us  at  least  a 
passing  acquaintance  with  the  places  on  that 
side. 


The  Italian  Lakes 

The  first  stop  is  at  Torbole,  crowded  in 
its  cosy  corner  between  the  range  of  Monte 
Baldo  and  the  inflow  of  the  Sarca  River. 
Thence  the  steamboat  skirts  for  many  miles, 
at  least  until  the  town  of  Garda  is  reached, 
the  bare,  slanting  strata  of  Monte  Baldo, 
which  rears  its  uncompromising  sterility 
from  the  water's  edge,  a  veritable  desert  of 
rock  tipped  at  an  angle,  occupying  the  space 
between  the  lake  and  the  valley  of  the  Adige. 
Two  tiny  islands  appear  offshore  near  Mal- 
cesine  and  Castello,  called  Dell'  Olivo  and 
Tremelone  respectively.  Near  Malcesine  a 
few  olive-trees  full  of  wayward  grace  begin 
to  clothe  the  baldness  of  the  shore  with  a 
shimmer  of  silver-green  punctuated  and  em- 
phasized by  rigid  cypresses. 

Malcesine  itself  decidedly  invites  the  art- 
ist's pencil,  as  it  did  that  of  Goethe. 
Perched  upon  a  rock  which  projects  into 
the  lake  stands  the  square  tower  which 
tempted  the  poet,  with  adjoining  building 
and  wall,  the  whole  complex  being  crene- 
lated in  true  mediaeval  fashion.  Alongside 
the  houses  of  a  village  have  grouped  them- 
selves around  a  natural  harbour. 

The  steamboat  journey  southward  from 
Malcesine  presents  a  weird  sameness,  a  pow- 

320 


The  Eastern  Shore  of  Lake  Garda 

erful  uniformity  of  aspect  quite  unlike  the 
shifting  scenes  usual  upon  the  Italian  lakes. 
The  great  seriousness  of  Lake  Garda  and 
its  large  scale  are  constantly  enhanced  by  the 
terrific  range  of  Monte  Baldo  on  the  one 
hand  and  the  blank  wall  of  cliffs  on  the 
western  shore.  These  natural  features  alone 
are  quite  sufficient  to  differentiate  Lake 
Garda  from  the  lesser  lakes. 

The  stopping-places  succeed  each  other  at 
irregular  intervals,  all  at  the  foot  of  Monte 
Baldo.  Assenza,  Macugnano,  Castelletto  di 
Brenzone,  and  Torri  del  Benaco,  the  very 
names  frequently  indicating  the  presence  of 
castles  or  towers.  The  headland  of  San 
Vigilio,  exposed  and  rocky,  is  deeply  im- 
pressive, with  a  certain  remote  and  neglected 
air.  Here  again  the  olive-trees  dispute  the 
meagre  ground  with  each  other,  and  in  so 
doing  form  delightful  groups.  The  rich 
green  cypresses  are  reflected  in  the  mirror 
of  the  lake,  and  the  rocks  cast  deep  purple 
shadows.  Here  a  villa  looking  forsaken  and 
forlorn,  there  a  lively  little  harbour,  add 
their  pictures  to  this  bizarre  lake-shore. 

The  steamboat,  speeding  on  its  way,  now 
enters  the  sheltered  bay  of  the  old  town  of 
Garda,  which  has  given  its  name  to  the  whole 

321 


The  Italian  Lakes 

lake.  A  ruined  castle  has  been  used  to  make 
a  background  for  a  lemon  plantation  and 
for  a  vineyard  surrounded  by  an  incongru- 
ous red  brick  wall.  Now  we  pass  a  large 
cream-coloured  villa,  green  as  to  its  blinds, 
and  situated  upon  a  terrace  surrounded  by 
decorative  grounds.  Then  the  boat  stops  at 
a  place  given  over  to  fishing.  The  beach  is 
covered  with  long  white  nets  drying  or  being 
mended.  Rows  of  huge  bottle-shaped  recep- 
tacles of  wickerwork  repose  on  the  break- 
water, making  one  think  of  the  lobster-pots 
of  the  New  England  coast.  The  harbour 
is  full  of  fishing-boats,  which  are  black  and 
rise  to  antiquated  points  at  the  bow  and 
stern,  suggesting  primitive  gondolas.  In- 
deed, the  influence  of  Venice  is  noticeable 
far  and  wide  about  Lake  Garda,  even  at  this 
late  day.  Women  still  go  to  the  lake  with 
copper  buckets  slung  over  their  shoulders 
on  long  wooden  yokes,  as  their  sisters  go  to 
the  small  piazza  fountains  of  Venice. 

We  pass  Bardolino,  where  Goethe  landed 
in  1786  to  continue  his  journey  to  Verona. 

Lasize  has  its  fine  old  castle  and  garden. 
Indeed,  Lake  Garda  is  of  martial  aspect, 
bordered  by  characteristic  square  structures 
of  massive  mediaeval  architecture.  Then 

322 


The  Tower  of  San  Martino 

comes  Peschiera  at  the  outlet  of  the  Mincio, 
once  a  famous  fortress  of  the  Quadrilateral, 
but  to-day  apparently  counted  of  small  stra- 
tegic value.  The  place  presents  little  of 
interest  upon  the  water-front.  Before  you 
are  fully  aware  of  its  military  character,  the 
boat  has  entered  a  fortified  harbour  of  small 
dimensions  but  most  warlike  appearance. 
Whichever  way  the  traveller  turns,  his  eye 
falls  on  bastions,  moats,  and  masonry.  Even 
the  casual  visitor,  however,  cannot  fail  to  see 
that  these  are  of  a  pattern  which  long-range 
guns  and  smokeless  powder  have  now  made 
obsolete.  The  Mincio  is  not  navigable  at 
the  Peschiera  outlet  on  account  of  weirs. 

The  Tower  of  San  Martino    (Solferino) 

The  battle-field  and  tower  of  San  Mar- 
tino can  be  reached  from  Peschiera  by  rail. 
On  the  24th  of  June  there  is  always  a  large 
gathering  of  country  people  and  military 
associations  from  far  and  near. 

In  that  famous  battle  the  French  and  Pied- 
montese  stood  under  Napoleon  III.  and  Vic- 
tor Emmanuel  respectively,  the  Austrians 
under  the  Emperor  Francis  Joseph.  The 


323 


The  Italian  Lakes 

number  of  men  engaged  is  said  to  have  been 
150,000  on  each  side. 

On  the  evening  of  June  23,  1859,  the  whole 
Austrian  army  sallied  forth  from  Verona 
and  Mantua,  recrossed  the  Mincio,  and  occu- 
pied a  line  of  battle  some  twelve  miles  long, 
with  Solferino  as  a  centre.  The  village  of 
Solferino  lies  some  five  miles  south  of  the 
San  Martino  tower.  Next  morning  early 
the  French  began  the  attack  on  the  Austrians 
along  this  line  and  were  victorious.  A  row 
of  hills  afforded  valuable  shelter  for  the  com- 
batants. At  the  same  time  the  position  of 
San  Martino  was  attacked  by  the  Piedmon- 
tese  and  fell  into  their  hands  at  nightfall. 
The  monumental  tower  which  marks  the  site 
of  San  Martino  and  is  visible  even  from 
Austrian  territory  does  not  disappoint  on 
nearer  acquaintance.  It  is  truly  enormous. 
Instead  of  steps,  the  interior  reveals  a  series 
of  inclined  planes  which  mount  to  the  top, 
and  frescoes  on  the  interior  walls  tell  the  tale 
of  the  great  struggle  for  Italian  independ- 
ence. In  the  rotunda  on  the  ground  floor 
Napoleon  III.  is  seen  riding  side  by  side 
with  Victor  Emmanuel,  and,  in  general,  due 
regard  is  given  in  the  different  frescoes  to 
the  share  of  the  French  in  the  work  of  that 

324 


The  Tower  of  San  Martino 

fateful  day.  The  battle-ground  covers  a 
stretch  of  hilly  country,  displaying  the  gen- 
eral characteristics  of  the  plain  of  Lombardy, 
where  rows  of  mulberry-trees  alternate  with 
fields  of  American  corn  and  pleasant  vine- 
yards. The  peace  of  work  well  done  has  now 
displaced  the  havoc  of  war.  The  former 
Italian  and  Austrian  combatants  have  since 
become  allies,  and  their  contiguous  terri- 
tories along  a  wavering  line  of  great  extent 
resound  to-day  with  the  hum  of  useful,  mu- 
tually beneficial  industries. 


325 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

ENVIRONS  AND  EXCURSIONS 

Arco 

IMAGINE  an  isolated  yellow  rock  rising 
some  430  feet  sheer  from  the  Sarca  plain, 
clothed  as  to  its  base  with  the  pearl-gray 
foliage  of  olive-trees,  higher  up  bristling 
with  the  dark  points  of  many  cypresses,  and 
the  whole  surmounted  by  castle  towers  in 
partial  ruin.  Spread  for  yourself  at  the  foot 
of  this  extraordinary  castle  hill  several  streets 
of  houses  in  a  semicircle,  some  handsome 
hotels,  gardens,  and  shaded  walks,  —  and  you 
have  a  rough  sketch  of  Arco,  as  it  looms  up 
before  the  visitor  approaching  from  Riva. 
North  of  Riva  the  river  Sarca  has  deposited 
an  alluvial  plain  of  exceptional  fertility. 
Roses  are  found  here  by  the  thousands,  even 
in  December.  The  almonds  ripen  in  Feb- 
ruary, the  peaches,  apricots,  and  pears  in 
March.  It  is  out  of  this  flat  plain  that  the 

326 


ARCO    AND    ITS    CASTLE 


Environs  and  Excursions 

castle  hill  of  Arco  juts  forth  like  some  ante- 
diluvian marine  monster  raising  its  head 
above  the  surface  of  the  placid  sea. 

The  great  rock  is  so  situated  that  its  stra- 
tegic value  must  have  engaged  the  attention 
of  any  race  wishing  to  fortify  its  settlements 
in  this  region.  The  actual  building  of  the 
castle  has  been  variously  ascribed  to  the 
Romans  and  to  Theodoric  the  Great,  king 
of  the  Goths.  It  is  certain  that  it  finally 
became  the  home  of  the  Counts  of  Arco,  and 
was  partially  ruined  in  1703  at  the  time 
of  the  French  invasion,  during  the  War  of 
the  Spanish  Succession. 

The  hotels  of  Arco  are  especially  designed 
for  winter  patronage,  some  of  them  possess- 
ing covered  promenades  and  sunny  garden 
terraces.  There  is  an  avenue  of  magnolias, 
a  casino,  a  grand  villa  belonging  to  the  Aus- 
trian Archduke  Frederick,  and  a  town  pal- 
ace of  the  Arco  family.  The  trees  planted 
along  the  favourite  walks  are  illuminated  at 
night  with  electric  lights  ingeniously  placed 
between  them.  From  the  standpoint  of  its 
sheltered  situation  Arco  may  be  likened  to 
one  of  those  lemon  plantations  on  Lake 
Garda,  which  are  protected  on  the  north, 
east,  and  west  by  walls,  and  open  to  the  south 

327 


The  Italian  Lakes 

only.  That  which  is  done  artificially  for 
the  lemon-trees  on  the  banks  of  Lake  Garda, 
nature  has  done  unsolicited  for  the  houses 
of  Arco.  The  place  is  in  some  respects  a 
miniature  Nice  or  Algiers.  Many  guests 
crowd  its  hotels  during  the  season,  mostly 
speaking  German,  and  bringing  with  them 
the  good  graces  and  pleasant  ways  of  Vienna 
and  Berlin. 

Arco  and  Riva  combined  form  admirable 
centres  for  excursions  in  all  directions  by 
land  and  water,  down  along  the  valleys  or 
up  into  the  heights.  The  region  is  not  ex- 
actly conspicuous  for  short  strolls,  although 
some  such  have  been  laid  out  at  Arco.  The 
country  lying  around  the  upper  part  of  Lake 
Garda  is  built  upon  too  large  a  scale,  and 
is  preeminently  a  land  of  magnificent  dis- 
tances. It  is  far  removed  from  mere  pretti- 
ness. 

Riva  the  town  proper  receives  the  shade 
in  the  afternoon  from  towering  Monte  Giu- 
mella ;  —  doubtless  for  this  reason  the  su- 
perb hotels  (which  are  designed  to  meet  the 
needs  principally  of  autumn  and  winter 
guests)  stretch  out  eastward  along  the  lake, 
in  order  to  enjoy  as  much  of  the  sunshine 
as  possible. 

328 


Environs  and  Excursions 

An  interesting  excursion  from  Riva  con- 
sists of  a  visit  to  the  Ponale  waterfall.  This 
object  of  scenic  beauty  may  be  reached  by 
boat,  and,  with  a  little  forethought,  the  winds 
may  be  made  to  serve  admirably  for  propel- 
ling power.  Thus,  if  an  early  start  is  taken, 
the  north  wind  can  be  used  to  sail  south  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Ponale  gorge,  the  waterfall 
can  be  visited,  and  the  ora,  or  south  wind, 
can  then  be  used  for  the  return  to  Torbole  or 
Riva.  In  connection  with  the  Ponale  water- 
fall excursion,  it  is  possible  to  climb  also 
to  the  high-placed  hamlet  of  Pregasine, 
perched  above  the  frowning  cliffs  that 
plunge  straight  down  into  the  lake. 

For  the  excursion  to  Lake  Ledro  we  fol- 
low the  interesting  carriage  road  which  is 
cut  into  the  cliffs  in  the  direction  of  the 
Ponale  gorge.  There  are  three  galleries  and 
tunnels.  In  the  longest  of  these  tunnels  an 
inscription  records  that  the  road  was  built 
as  long  ago  as  1851.  As  this  superb  bit  of 
road-building  rises  gradually  along  the  per- 
pendicular mountainside,  the  view  from  it 
grows  in  extent  over  Lake  Garda  and  the 
Sarca  valley.  One  is  reminded  of  the  famous 
Axenstrasse  on  Lake  Luzern,  in  Switzerland, 
and  of  portions  of  the  no  less  beautiful  road 

329 


The  Italian  Lakes 

along  the  northern  shore  of  Lake  Thun  in 
that  country.  At  the  Ponale  gorge  the  car- 
riage road  turns  a  sharp  corner  and  winds 
inward  to  the  valley  of  Ledro  with  its  pretty 
little  lake  of  clear  green  and  its  chief  village, 
Pieve  di  Ledro.  This  highway  may  then 
be  followed  for  many  miles  to  Storo,  in  the 
Val  Bona,  and  to  the  Italian  Lago  d'Idro, 
with  its  famous  frontier  fortifications  at 
Rocca  d'Anfo.  Nor  in  the  list  of  excursions 
from  Riva  should  be  forgotten  little  Varone 
with  its  gorge  and  waterfall. 

As  long  as  the  visitor  makes  Riva  or  Arco 
his  headquarters,  he  has  before  him  the  ex- 
traordinary mountain  mass  of  Monte  Baldo, 
already  mentioned  as  separating  Lake  Garda 
from  the  valley  of  the  Adige.  This  range 
extends  from  Torbole  down  to  the  town  of 
Garda.  After  that  it  disintegrates  gradually 
as  far  as  Bardolino,  and  is  succeeded  by  the 
pleasant  hill  country  in  which  lie,  in  a  wide 
curve,  Lasize,  Peschiera,  Desenzano,  San 
Martino,  Solferino,  and  Salo.  Monte  Baldo 
forms  a  happy  hunting-ground  for  geologist, 
botanist,  and  entomologist.  The  edelweiss 
is  still  to  be  found  in  its  high  places.  Its 
two  principal  peaks  are  called  respectively 
the  Altissimo  and  Monte  Maggiore.  From 

330 


Environs  and  Excursions 

both  views  of  exceptional  extent  can  be  ob- 
tained, linking  into  one  superb  whole  the 
snow  groups  of  Tyrol  and  the  Dolomites, 
and  bringing  them  to  the  very  feet  of  Ve- 
rona, La  Degna,  and  Venice  on  the  Adriatic. 

Writing  to  his  mother  on  May  21,  1869, 
from  Verona,  Ruskin  said  of  the  view  of 
these  mountains  from  the  plain:  "I  had  a 
sunset  last  night  which  convinced  me  that, 
after  all,  there  is  nothing  so  picture-like  as 
the  colour  of  the  Italian  landscape.  There 
were  some  blue  mountains  beyond  the  Lago 
di  Garda  seen  against  the  light,  and  they 
were  of  a  blue  exactly  like  the  blue  of  paint, 
or  of  the  bloom  of  a  plum,  a  lovely  plain, 
covered  with  vines  and  cypresses,  being  all 
round  to  the  south  and  west,  and  soft  lower 
slopes  of  Alp  on  the  north.  I  never  saw 
anything  more  heavenly." 

Far  to  the  north  and  west  of  Arco  lie  the 
majestic  snow  groups  of  the  Brenta,  the  Pre- 
sanella,  and  the  Adamello,  marvellous  arctic 
outcroppings  amid  this  southern  land  of 
sunshine.  For  those  who  are  bent  on  high 
touring,  as  the  Germans  have  it,  these  groups 
afford  great  opportunities  and  not  a  few  dif- 
ficulties. Others  will  take  profound  interest 
in  the  Sarca  valley,  reduced  to  ruin  for  long 

331 


The  Italian  Lakes 

stretches  by  various  landslips.  From  Arco 
it  is  possible  to  drive  to  Alle  Sarche,  and 
thence  by  Lake  Toblino,  with  its  island 
castle,  over  the  Buco  di  Vela  to  Trent.  Or 
else,  turning  eastward  from  Alle  Sarche,  the 
traveller  can  reach  Tione,  Pinzolo,  and 
charming  Madonna  di  Campiglio.  These 
names  evoke  grand  possibilities  in  a  region 
still  largely  off  the  beaten  track,  but  they 
hardly  belong  to  the  subject  here  being  con- 
sidered, namely,  the  Italian  lakes.  Suffice 
it  at  this  point  to  confine  our  excursions  to 
the  environs  of  Riva  and  Arco,  to  glory  in 
the  exceptional  beauties  of  this  corner  of 
earth,  to  admire  the  thrift  of  its  inhabitants, 
noticeable  not  only  in  the  fertile  Sarca  plain, 
but  also  among  the  barren  rocks  where  mul- 
berry-trees are  planted  for  the  silkworms 
upon  every  available  spot,  even  amid  the 
devastations  and  desolations  caused  by  pre- 
historic Grumblings  of  mountain  masses. 

The  country  to  the  north  has  already  been 
treated  by  the  author  in  "  The  Fair  Land 
Tyrol." 


332 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

GIOVANNI  SEGANTINI    (1858-9$) 

Painter  of  the  Alps 

THE  name  of  Arco  recalls  the  career  of 
a  man  of  the  mountains,  whose  longing  and 
endeavour  taught  him  both  to  understand 
and  then  to  paint  the  Alps  and  their  inhab- 
itants, as  they  are,  in  season  and  out  of  sea- 
son. In  his  pictures  we  find  a  workaday 
alpine  world,  illuminated  by  his  genius.  He 
depicts  the  men,  women,  and  children  of  the 
heights,  the  sheep  and  the  goats,  the  cattle 
and  horses  of  the  uplands.  He  lays  his 
scenes  in  the  stable  or  on  the  pasture,  on 
the  alp  or  aim,  and  round  about  in  his  pic- 
tures the  mountain  ranges,  the  precipitous 
peaks,  and  the  great  snow  giants  stand  guard. 
He  has  given  us  the  exalted  simplicity  and 
power  of  the  Alps,  and  withal  the  intimate, 
naive,  and  elemental  life  of  those  who  make 
their  living  off  the  slopes  and  in  the  secluded 
valleys. 

333 


The  Italian  Lakes 

To  follow  Segantini's  artistic  career  is  to 
journey  over  a  good  portion  of  the  southern 
slope  of  the  Alps  and  their  approaches,  start- 
ing on  Austrian  soil,  then  turning  to  Italy, 
and  ending  in  Switzerland.  In  a  certain 
sense,  therefore,  a  description  of  his  life  and 
work  forms  a  fitting  climax  to  this  volume, 
devoted  to  the  subalpine  lake  region. 

It  was  in  Arco  that  Segantini  was  born, 
but  his  career  rises  in  an  ascending  scale 
from  the  lowlands  into  the  highlands,  from 
the  plains  at  the  foot  of  the  Alps  by  slow 
stages  into  the  heights  themselves,  there  to 
dwell  until  the  end  of  his  artistic  mission. 
Step  by  step  he  won  his  way,  first  from  the 
city  atmosphere  of  Milan,  whither  he  was 
taken  in  early  childhood,  from  an  atmos- 
phere heavy  laden  with  the  friction  of  a 
great  population,  to  the  rural  country  of  the 
Brianza,  resting  snugly  among  the  alpine 
fore-hills.  Then  he  climbed  into  a  valley  of 
the  Swiss  Canton  of  Graubiinden,  and  for 
years  painted  what  he  saw  there  from  the 
world  apart,  while  his  fame  spread  over 
Europe.  Finally  he  rose  to  the  upland  pla- 
teau of  the  upper  Engadine,  and  there,  at 
the  very  edge  of  its  loftiest  portion,  at  far- 
famed  Maloja,  about  on  the  limit  of  the 

334 


Giovanni  Segantini 

habitable  portion  of  the  Alps,  he  brought  his 
art  and  his  intimate  conceptions  to  their 
climax  and  culmination. 

Thus  he  knew  the  Alps  in  all  their  grada- 
tions, summering  and  wintering  in  them  and 
with  them,  and  loved  their  every  character- 
istic and  feature.  For  him  their  solitudes 
were  not  lonesome,  but  filled  with  thought. 
He  understood  the  lives  of  the  people  and 
rejoiced  with  them.  The  flowers  were  his 
companions.  The  mountain  torrents  spoke 
and  he  answered. 

It  may  occur  to  some  one  to  institute  a 
comparison  between  this  Italian  interpreter 
of  the  Alps  and  Defregger,  of  Teutonic  Ty- 
rolese  stock,  because  they  both  painted  in 
the  alpine  highlands.  In  reality  these  two 
artists  have  little  in  common,  except  the  envi- 
ronment of  their  work.  Defregger  is  pre- 
eminently the  painter  of  the  alpine  anecdote, 
or  historical  incident,  the  painter  of  a  people 
of  German  race,  first  and  foremost,  his  land- 
scape is  always  incidental,  his  method  is 
that  of  the  academies  in  which  he  studied, 
his  temperament  is  spontaneously  joyous,  and 
his  work  almost  invariably  happy  and  bright. 
Segantini  is  a  great  master  of  landscape  and 
of  the  symbolical  interpretation  of  the  Alps, 

335 


The  Italian  Lakes 

as  well  as  a  noble  genre  painter.  He  rarely 
breaks  the  predominant  sense  of  sobriety  and 
earnestness  in  his  pictures.  His  human  fig- 
ures often  assume  complete  subordination 
even  to  the  cattle  and  to  their  mountain  sur- 
roundings. Men  and  women  sometimes  ap- 
pear in  his  pictures  as  mere  specks  in  the 
vast  amphitheatre  of  an  alpine  basin.  More- 
over, Segantini  broke  away  from  the  tradi- 
tions of  his  academic  schooling,  both  in 
method  and  in  choice  of  subjects,  and  his 
fame  rests  upon  a  totally  different  basis  from 
that  of  his  neighbour  in  the  northern  Alps. 

Segantini  has  left  some  fragmentary  auto- 
biographical data  in  letters  and  elsewhere, 
from  which  it  is  possible  to  gather  a  few 
salient  facts  about  his  youth  and  early  strug- 
gles. His  mother  died  when  he  was  five 
years  old,  and  his  father  then  left  Arco  and 
took  the  child  with  him  to  Milan.  There 
was  a  son  and  daughter  of  a  former  mar- 
riage, and  the  four  for  awhile  made  up  the 
household  in  the  city.  But  the  business  in 
which  father  and  son  were  engaged  failed, 
and  they  soon  moved  away,  leaving  little 
Giovanni  in  the  care  of  his  stepsister.  As 
the  stepsister  was  away  all  day  at  work,  the 
child  remained  much  alone  at  home,  and, 

336 


Giovanni  Segantini 

for  fear  that  harm  might  come  to  him,  he 
was  kept  in  what  proved  to  be  virtual  impris- 
onment. The  child  was  sensitive  and  imag- 
inative, and  suffered  greatly  from  this  con- 
finement in  cheerless  surroundings,  accord- 
ing to  Segantini's  own  na'ive  recital  of  these 
early  days. 

He  must  have  been  about  seven  years  of 
age  when,  one  day,  hearing  persons  speak  of 
some  one  who  had  gone  to  France  from 
Milan,  the  little  fellow  decided  to  run  away. 
He  was  found  outside  of  the  city  by  the  road- 
side at  night,  wet  through  from  a  rain-storm, 
and  was  cared  for  by  kindly  peasant  folk. 
As  he  refused  to  return  to  his  stepsister,  these 
people  allowed  him  to  remain  with  them  for 
several  months,  herding  their  swine  and 
geese.  At  the  end  of  that  time  his  step- 
sister found  him,  and  he  temporarily  re- 
turned with  her  to  Milan. 

Soon,  however,  he  was  sent  to  live  with 
the  stepbrother,  who  was  keeping  a  sausage 
shop  in  the  Val  Sugana,  off  from  Trent  in 
Tyrol.  There  Giovanni  remained  for  a  few 
years,  but  eventually  he  made  an  attempt  to 
run  away  from  the  stepbrother  also,  and 
only  returned  to  him  through  the  failure 
of  his  plans  for  getting  out  into  the  wide, 

337 


The  Italian  Lakes 

wide  world  beyond.  Then  the  boy  was  sent 
back  to  Milan,  and  at  the  age  of  about 
twelve  was  placed  in  an  institution  for  or- 
phaned and  homeless  children.  From  that 
institution  he  made  his  third  and  last  attempt 
to  run  away,  but  was  brought  back,  and  at 
the  age  of  fifteen  was  finally  graduated  to 
make  his  own  way  in  the  world. 

His  stepsister  now  apprenticed  him  to  a 
photographer  and  painter  of  transparencies 
and  banners,  so  that  he  might  begin  to  make 
use  of  the  talent  for  drawing,  of  which  he  had 
already  given  evidence  in  the  orphan  home. 
At  the  same  time  he  began  to  visit  the  Art 
Academy  attached  to  the  famous  Brera  Gal- 
lery in  Milan.  His  work  showed  originality, 
and  by  degrees  excited  much  comment  on  the 
part  both  of  students  and  teachers.  He  even 
received  some  prize  medals  from  the  Acad- 
emy competitions,  but  at  the  end  of  his  sec- 
ond year  of  study  his  work  had  aroused  so 
much  partisanship  that  it  was  pronounced 
revolutionary,  and  his  picture  for  the  year 
having  been  badly  hung  at  the  prize  exhibi- 
tion, he  left  the  Academy,  feeling  himself 
misunderstood  and  aggrieved. 

Years  of  bitter  struggle  followed,  during 
which  he  barely  made  a  living  by  a  little 

338 


Giovanni  Segantini 

teaching  and  was  obliged  to  resort  to  small 
loans  from  friends. 

In  his  twentieth  year  he  exhibited  a  paint- 
ing of  the  ancient  choir  of  the  Church  of 
San  Antonio  in  Milan,  which  won  instant 
recognition  as  a  work  of  merit  in  the  treat- 
ment of  light  effects.  Segantini's  former 
schoolmates  at  the  Academy,  remembering 
his  hardships,  raised  a  purse  and  bought 
the  picture  of  him  for  three  hundred  (30x3) 
lire. 

Segantini  now  set  up  a  studio  for  himself 
near  the  Brera,  painted  what  he  saw  from 
his  window  or  on  the  street,  and  also  gained 
access  to  an  anatomical  clinic,  where  he 
studied  the  human  body.  From  this  period 
dates  a  picture  which  throws  light  on  a  pro- 
found ethical  characteristic  of  his  genius. 
With  his  newly  acquired  knowledge  of  anat- 
omy he  painted  the  picture  of  a  woman  in 
the  last  stages  of  consumption.  It  was  a 
death-bed  scene.  But  later,  in  what  was 
doubtless  an  involuntary  revulsion  against 
such  a  portrayal  and  against  the  perpetua- 
tion of  such  suggestions  of  disease,  Segan- 
tini painted  the  picture  over  again  and 
changed  the  dying  patient  into  a  fresh  and 


339 


The  Italian  Lakes 

healthy  person  just  awakening  from  sleep, 
and  renamed  the  picture  "  Rose-leaf." 

In  1 88 1,  when  Segantini  had  reached  the 
age  of  twenty-three,  he  married,  and  then 
started  on  that  wonderful  up-hill  journey 
of  growth  and  development  which  was  to 
take  him  by  degrees  from  Milan  to  Maloja, 
through  eighteen  years  of  ripening  experi- 
ence and  work,  and  place  him  on  the  pin- 
nacle of  artistic  fame  among  the  great  mod- 
ern painters. 

His  first  step  was  into  the  Brianza,  into 
the  pastoral  region  already  described  in  this 
book,  which  thrusts  itself  forward  to  a  point 
between  the  two  arms  of  Lake  Como.  Se- 
gantini spent  about  five  years  in  this  region, 
painting  principally  its  sheep  and  horses  and 
the  peasants  at  labour.  For  more  than  a  year 
he  lived  at  Pusiano,  a  hamlet  on  the  borders 
of  the  little  lake  of  the  same  name  and  on 
the  edge  of  the  hills.  Then  he  took  a  step 
upward  to  Corneno,  just  above  Pusiano, 
whence  the  view  stretches  over  the  lowlands. 
Here  he  remained  another  two  years  and  a 
half.  It  was  during  his  Brianza  period  that 
Segantini  first  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Millet's  work.  Some  photographs  were 
shown  him  during  a  visit  to  Milan ;  he  never 

340 


Giovanni  Segantini 

saw  the  originals,  and  instantly  he  recog- 
nized a  kindred  artist.  The  effect  upon 
Segantini  was  instantaneous,  not  in  the  way 
of  blind  imitation,  but  in  awakening  him  to 
his  own  capabilities  and  possibilities.  There 
was  much  in  the  personal  history  and  in  the 
aspirations  of  these  two  great  artists  which 
made  them  one,  although  they  never  met. 
During  this  period  also  Segantini  saw  some 
reproductions  of  pictures  of  the  Dutch 
school,  which  likewise  acted  as  an  incentive 
to  him  and  revealed  to  him  something  of 
the  general  European  drift  in  the  great  art 
world  outside,  with  which  he  had  no  actual 
contact. 

In  1885  Segantini  took  another  step  up- 
ward, fraught  with  the  most  important  re- 
sults to  his  artistic  career. 

The  carriage  road  which  bisects  the  region 
of  the  Brianza  from  Erba  to  Bellagio  mounts 
through  the  Val  Assina.  About  half-way 
between  these  two  places,  after  passing  the 
considerable  village  of  Canzo,  it  is  possible 
to  make  your  way  to  a  mountain  hamlet  by 
the  name  of  Caglio.  Here  Segantini  lived 
for  some  six  months  and  painted  the  great 
picture  which  may  be  said  to  mark  his  en- 
trance upon  that  world-wide  appreciation 

34i 


The  Italian  Lakes 

which  his  work  has  now  acquired.  Judging 
by  the  increasing  number  of  monographs 
devoted  to  him,  and  the  constantly  growing 
value  set  on  his  pictures,  his  reputation  is 
still  steadily  rising. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  first  official 
European  honours  conferred  upon  Segantini, 
apart  from  the  little  episode  in  Milan,  came 
from  Holland.  Both  in  1883  an(*  J886  he 
received  the  gold  medal  from  Amsterdam, 
and  most  of  his  later  works  went  across  the 
Alps,  especially  to  Germany,  Austria,  and 
Switzerland.  But  in  Caglio  he  painted  a 
picture  which  his  own  country  was  proud 
to  recognize  as  a  masterpiece. 

In  1888  the  Italian  government  bought  his 
"Alia  Stagna,"  "At  the  Milking  Bar," 
which  then  went  to  the  National  Museum 
in  Rome.  This  picture  represents  a  moun- 
tain pasture  at  eventide,  upon  which  a  herd 
of  cows  is  distributed  at  several  milking 
bars  or  fences.  The  close-cropped  pasture 
stretches  off  into  a  distance  closed  by  low 
hills.  We  are  evidently  not  in  the  high  Alps 
yet,  but  the  herd  of  cattle  indicates  that  we 
have  risen  to  the  pasture-lands.  The  evening 
sun  shines  benignly  over  the  scene.  There 
are  some  women  to  milk  the  cows,  but  tech- 

342 


Giovanni  Segantini 

nically  they  stand  in  a  subordinate  position 
to  the  cattle,  and  the  latter,  in  a  great  variety 
of  pose  and  colour,  dominate  the  scene. 

In  the  summer  of  1886  Segantini,  with  his 
wife  and  children,  moved  up  higher  and  far- 
ther into  the  alpine  world  to  a  little  village 
called  Savognin  in  the  Canton  Graubiinden, 
Switzerland.  This  village  is  on  the  road 
which  passes  from  Tiefenkastel  to  St.  Moritz 
over  the  Julier  Pass,  and  is  situated  in  the 
valley  called  Oberhalbstein.  The  place  is 
not  quite  four  thousand  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea  and  is  a  characteristic  alpine  set- 
tlement, not  exceptional  in  any  way,  and  at 
that  time  quite  untouched  by  resident  tour- 
ists. Here  trie  Segantini  family  lived  for 
eight  years,  during  which  time  the  artist's 
pictures  were  being  shown  in  various  art  cen- 
tres of  Europe.  In  1888  a  collection  of  his 
pictures  was  exhibited  in  London,  in  1889 
he  exhibited  at  the  Paris  Exposition  of  that 
year. 

It  was  at  Savognin 'and  in  its  surroundings 
that  Segantini  at  last  reached  the  true  alpine 
atmosphere,  for  which  he  seems  always  in- 
wardly to  have  yearned,  and  which  hence- 
forth made  him  the  great  scenic  interpreter 
of  this  upper  world  to  mankind  at  large. 

343 


The  Italian  Lakes 

The  total  number  of  Segantini's  pictures  is 
very  large,  considering  the  shortness  of 
his  artistic  life.  Official  figures,  though 
avowedly  incomplete,  place  his  oil  paintings 
at  132  and  his  sketches  and  pastels  at  108. 

Among  the  many  works  which  have  con- 
tributed to  earn  him  the  title  of  the  Painter 
of  the  Alps,  the  following  may  be  enumer- 
ated as  special  examples,  though  no  claim 
is  made  that  this  list  is  in  any  sense  com- 
plete : 

"  Knitting  Girl  at  the  Fence  "  shows  a  girl 
sitting  on  the  ground  beside  a  fence  and 
deeply  absorbed  in  the  stitches  of  her  knit- 
ting, while  a  few  sheep  stand  quietly  beside 
her.  Through  the  bars  of  the  fence  there 
is  a  view  of  the  village  of  Savognin  beyond. 
The  scene  is  just  such  as  any  traveller  might 
see  for  himself  in  Graubiinden.  The  very 
absence  of  the  extraordinary  or  sensational 
gives  this  picture  a  special  impressiveness. 
The  whole  is  full  of  rest  and  alpine  stillness. 

"  The  Two  Mothers "  represents  a  stable 
scene  in  which  we  discern  a  cow  at  the  stall 
with  her  calf  and  a  sitting  woman  with  a 
baby  in  arms.  A  lantern  hangs  from  the 
ceiling  and  sheds  a  strong  light  upon  the 
woman's  face. 

344 


Giovanni  Segantini 

A  picture  entitled  "  Yoked  Cows,"  and 
now  to  be  found  in  Zurich,  in  the  Henne- 
berg  Gallery,  takes  us  into  the  open  air. 
Two  cows  are  yoked  to  a  rude  cart.  They 
stand  before  a  mountain  water-trough,  made 
alpine-fashion  from  the  trunk  of  a  tree.  The 
girl  who  has  been  driving  the  cows  is  now 
herself  drinking  with  lowered  head  from 
the  wooden  spout  of  the  fountain.  In  the 
middle  distance  is  seen  a  village,  and  some 
snow-covered  mountains,  though  not  "  snow 
mountains,"  fill  out  the  background. 

One  of  Segantini's  best-known  pictures  is 
"  The  Furrow,"  also  called  "  Ploughing  in 
the  Alps."  This  painting  is  now  in  the 
Neue  Pinakothek  in  Munich.  It  received 
the  gold  medal  at  the  Turin  Exhibition  in 
1892.  In  some  respects  "The  Furrow" 
strongly  recalls  Millet's  work,  but  this  re- 
semblance would  not  seem  to  proceed  from 
any  imitation,  but  from  a  certain  natural 
similarity  in  the  point  of  view,  if  not  in  the 
workmanship  of  the  two  great  painters.  We 
are  introduced  to  an  upland  valley,  probably 
that  of  Savognin.  In  the  foreground  two 
men  are  seen  ploughing  with  two  horses. 
The  furrows  and  the  bare  ground,  where 
the  sod  has  been  overturned,  stretch  back  in 

345 


The  Italian  Lakes 

a  curving  line.  Again  there  is  a  village  in 
the  middle  ground,  characterized  by  the 
usual  alpine  architecture,  part  wood,  part 
stone  and  mortar,  the  roofs  sloping  so  as  to 
shed  the  winter  snow,  and  a  church  spire 
rising  from  their  midst.  The  background  is 
formed  by  mountain  ranges,  similar  to  those 
in  the  picture  entitled  "  Yoked  Cows,"  i.  e. 
ranges  which  are  still  partly  covered  with 
snow  during  the  months  of  April  and  May, 
but  are  bare  of  snow  during  the  summer. 
No  one  who  is  acquainted  with  the  Alps 
all  the  year  round,  and  not  merely  during 
the  short  tourist  season,  can  fail  to  be  im- 
pressed with  Segantini's  fidelity  and  clear- 
ness on  all  points,  born  of  an  intimate  knowl- 
edge and  love  of  the  mountains  and  of  accu- 
rate observation  at  all  times  and  seasons. 

"  Alpine  Pasture,"  now  in  Vienna  in  pri- 
vate hands,  is  an  idyl  of  special  charm  to 
those  who  love  the  upper  solitudes  above 
the  timber  line.  We  find  ourselves  on  a 
real  alp  or  aim  of  wide  extent.  A  shepherd 
boy  sits  on  a  rock  in  the  foreground;  near 
him  a  number  of  shorn  sheep  graze  or  gaze 
vacantly  into  the  distance.  In  the  middle 
ground,  down  in  the  hollow,  lies  a  small 
alpine  lake,  hardly  more  than  a  pond,  on 

346 


Giovanni  Segantini 

the  borders  of  which  the  figures  of  some 
more  sheep  and  also  of  a  herd  of  cattle 
appear  somewhat  indistinctly.  Three  men 
are  tending  the  animals.  Bare,  rugged 
mountains  close  in  the  scene,  and  an  occa- 
sional snow  peak  or  slope  gleams  in  the  far 
distance.  A  great  quiet  reigns  over  the  stony 
pasture,  an  aloofness  from  the  world  makes 
itself  felt.  No  one  could  have  painted  this 
picture  who  had  not  learned  from  actual 
experience,  literally  by  heart,  the  alpine  in- 
terplay of  light  and  shade,  the  shifting  col- 
our-scheme of  these  lofty  regions  and  their 
rare  stillness,  where,  aside  from  the  herds 
and  flocks  and  the  infrequent  movements  of 
their  herders,  only  the  wandering  clouds,  the 
nodding  flowers,  and  the  circling  birds  seem 
to  express  motion.  Segantini  certainly  ac- 
quired this  faculty  of  viewing  the  outside 
world  from  a  distance,  of  looking  off,  and 
absorbing  the  meanings  of  alpine  length  and 
breadth  and  reproducing  the  impression  of 
immovable  immensity. 

"  Spring  Pasture,"  now  in  Zurich  in  the 
Henneberg  Gallery,  renders  the  summer  pas- 
ture in  the  full  glow  of  early  sunshine. 
There  is  a  white  cow  with  the  regulation 
bell  hanging  from  her  neck.  Her  calf  is 

347 


The  Italian  Lakes 

not  far  off.  The  grass  stretches  in  great  bil- 
lows off  to  some  superb  mountain  forms  at 
the  back.  A  straying  cloud  has  caught  on 
one  of  the  summits  and  hangs  there  envelop- 
ing the  peak  in  a  dark  mist.  Two  distant 
figures  of  women  and  the  corner  of  an  alpine 
hut  supply  the  only  human  touch,  and  over 
the  whole  an  atmosphere  of  spring-time  joy- 
ousness  holds  undisputed  sway. 

"  Haying  Time "  represents  a  familiar 
scene  in  Graubiinden.  In  the  foreground  a 
girl  is  stooping  low  to  scrape  together  every 
wisp  of  hay  with  her  rake.  This  hay  is  to 
be  carefully  wrapped  in  bundles,  as  is  seen 
in  the  middle  ground,  where  a  few  women 
are  loading  such  hay  bundles  upon  a  cart 
drawn  by  cows.  A  few  jagged  mountain 
figures  loom  up  at  the  back. 

The  last  phase  in  Segantini's  artistic  devel- 
opment, his  final  climb  into  the  heights,  took 
him  to  Maloja  in  the  upper  Engadine.  He 
went  there  in  the  summer  of  1894  an^  took 
up  his  quarters  in  an  ample  Swiss  chalet 
not  very  far  from  the  borders  of  the  Lake 
of  Sils.  Maloja  is  almost  six  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  is  thus  about 
as  high  as  the  line  of  the  habitable  portion 
of  the  Alps.  Segantini  could  hardly  have 

348 


Giovanni  Segantini 

moved  his  home  up  higher  with  any  profit 
to  his  work.  Indeed  he  found  it  necessary 
at  times  to  descend  on  the  Italian  side  of 
the  Maloja  Pass  to  a  place  called  Soglio  in 
the  Val  Bregaglia.  The  climate  of  the 
upper  Engadine  is  locally  described  as  "  nine 
months  winter  and  three  months  cold,"  but 
during  those  three  brilliant  months  Maloja 
and  adjacent  resorts  are  filled  with  guests 
from  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  making  the 
region  a  veritable  international  rendezvous. 
Thus,  if  Segantini  could  not  be  induced  to 
go  out  to  meet  the  big  world,  that  world 
came  to  him  in  the  mountains. 

The  first  large  picture  he  painted  at  Ma- 
loja was  entitled  "  Return  to  the  Native 
Land,"  now  in  the  National  Gallery  in  Ber- 
lin. It  tells  the  story  of  a  family  bringing 
the  dead  body  of  their  son  home  on  a  cart 
for  burial.  A  man  leads  the  horse,  while 
a  woman  sits  mourning  beside  the  bier.  The 
horse  and  a  dog  which  follows  the  cart  both 
display  the  sadness  of  the  hour  by  their 
drooping  attitude.  Segantini  also  painted 
numerous  allegorical  and  symbolical  pic- 
tures, generally  using  alpine  backgrounds  for 
his  figures  with  novel  effects,  but  a  consid- 


349 


The  Italian  Lakes 

eration  of  these  works  would  take  the  reader 
somewhat  outside  the  scope  of  this  book. 

A  "  Portrait  of  a  German  Lady,"  for  ex- 
ample, in  private  possession  in  Berlin,  sets 
forth  a  sitting  figure  with  an  alpine  back- 
ground of  alp,  cliff,  and  peak. 

It  was  Segantini's  special  desire  to  produce 
a  grand  triptych  to  celebrate  the  Alpine 
world  as  a  whole.  It  was  to  be  a  grand 
summary,  an  epic  portrayal  with  the  brush 
of  the  majesty  of  the  mountains  and  the  sim- 
ple occupations  of  the  alpine  dwellers.  The 
work  in  its  entirety  was  never  completed, 
but  the  three  large  paintings  which  were  to 
form  the  basis  of  it  were  almost  finished  by 
the  great  artist  before  his  death.  These  are 
entitled  "  Nature,"  "  Life,"  and  "  Death." 

"  Nature,"  as  Segantini  left  it,  would 
probably  have  received  a  little  more  work 
at  his  hands  had  he  lived,  but  to  all  intents 
and  purposes  it  can  be  accepted  as  it  stands. 
It  is  morning  on  the  alp  and  the  snow  moun- 
tains stand  round  about  in  their  full  glory. 
In  the  left  foreground  are  seen  a  mother  and 
child  sitting  under  a  lofty  cedar  of  the  Alps 
(pinus  cembra),  that  noble  tree  which,  some- 
what rare  in  other  parts  of  Switzerland,  oc- 
curs with  greater  frequency  in  the  upper 

350 


Giovanni  Segantini 

Engadine,  as  well  as  in  Southern  Tyrol  and 
in  such  mountain  regions  as  the  Pyrenees, 
the  Carpathians,  and  even  in  Southern  Si- 
beria. There  is  a  small  lake  in  the  hollow 
of  the  alpine  basin  and  cattle  are  grazing 
at  its  margin.  A  man  with  a  stick  is  driving 
a  cow  before  him.  Two  women  enter  the 
picture  from  the  right  middle  distance, 
wending  their  way  over  a  winding  mountain 
path.  The  alp  is  still  in  the  subdued  light 
of  early  morning,  but  the  rays  of  the  sun 
strike  with  full  force  on  the  crags  and  snow 
slopes  of  the  enclosing  mountains  beyond. 
There  is  an  air  of  classic  arrangement  in 
this  picture  which  makes  it  combine  in  one 
the  Latin  influence  of  the  south  and  the  Teu- 
tonic environment  of  the  north.  One  would 
not  be  surprised  to  see  a  Greek  temple  rising 
there  beside  the  great  cedar  of  the  Alps, 
to  complete  the  welding  of  ancient  art  and 
alpine  nature.  This  touch  makes  the  picture 
reminiscent,  almost  symbolical  in  quality,  and 
places  it  quite  apart  from  paintings  of  the 
Alps  by  other  artists.  Indeed  "  Nature " 
is  unique  even  among  Segantini's  own  pic- 
tures. It  is  as  though  this  Italian  genius 
had  comprehended  and  therein  expressed  in 
lasting  form  that  modern  love  for  the  moun- 


The  Italian  Lakes 

tains  which  his  countrymen  are  now  experi- 
encing, and  which  leads  them  to  climb  in 
ever-increasing  numbers  the  abrupt  southern 
slopes  of  the  Alps  in  order  mentally  to  make 
them  their  own. 

"  Life  "  is  probably  entirely  finished.  It 
forms  a  complete  contrast  to  "  Nature  "  in 
tone  and  thought,  though  the  scene  is  again 
laid  in  the  upland  pasture-lands.  The  time 
is  transferred  to  the  set  of  sun.  A  man  is 
driving  the  cattle  home  along  a  stony  moun- 
tain path.  Behind  him  comes  a  woman  lead- 
ing a  calf  by  a  rope,  while  the  mother  cow 
walks  contentedly  alongside.  The  landscape 
is  of  transcendent  richness  and  splendour, 
and  must  immediately  warm  the  heart  of 
every  true  lover  of  the  Alps.  The  eye  is 
drawn  over  the  familiar  rock-strewn  sward 
of  the  uplands,  patched  with  brilliant  green 
grass-plots,  to  a  clear  distance  wherein  is 
outlined  a  range  of  great  mountains  spark- 
ling with  everlasting  snow.  An  all-envelop- 
ing yellow  effulgence  covers  the  western  sky, 
in  which  a  lone  orange-tinted  cloud  floats 
quietly  at  ease.  It  is  such  a  landscape  as 
one  may  have  seen  returning  at  the  end  of 
some  summer  day  from  an  ascent  into  the 
snow  peaks  above. 

352 


Giovanni  Segantini 

"  Death "  was  intended  to  complete  this 
colossal  trilogy,  built  upon  the  theme  of  the 
Alps,  but  the  picture  was  never  finished. 
As  blocked  out  it  represents  a  sombre  winter 
scene.  Deep  snow  lies  everywhere,  cover- 
ing the  land  to  the  tops  of  the  fences.  The 
roofs  of  the  houses  are  burdened  with  it. 
A  little  group  of  mourners  stands  near  a 
house  door.  An  ominous  mountain  range 
rises  at  the  back,  and  a  cloud  coils  around 
one  of  the  peaks  like  volcano  smoke. 

In  1899  Segantini  died  at  the  Upper 
Schafberg  Restaurant,  a  point  over  nine 
thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea, 
situated  above  Pontresina  in  the  upper  En- 
gadine.  It  is  a  favourite  point  of  view,  and 
there  is  now  a  tablet  there  in  his  memory. 
His  grave  is  in  the  little  cemetery  of  Ma- 
loja.  One  feels  that  the  good  painter,  ever 
reaching  higher,  both  in  art  and  altitude,  was 
able  through  years  of  single-minded  endeav- 
our to  express  to  others  by  his  brush  some 
of  the  truth  which  he  felt  welling  up  in 
himself,  —  and  so  passed  on  to  learn  more 
and  achieve  even  greater  results  in  an  ascend- 
ing scale.  In  the  meantime,  wherever  there 
are  those  who  hear  with  memory's  ear  the 
tinkling  of  cattle  bells  on  upland  pastures, 

353 


The  Italian  Lakes 

the  murmur  of  distant  avalanches,  the  gurgle 
of  little  brooks  across  sunlit  meadows;  who 
see  with  mind's  eye  the  white  mountains 
exalted  against  an  impenetrable  azure  and 
the  tiny  flowers  wavering  in  the  draught  that 
draws  between  the  crags;  who,  having  ex- 
perienced the  peace  of  the  high  Alps,  desire 
to  give  thanks,  —  in  them  Segantini  has 
found  enthusiastic  friends  whose  affection 
time  will  not  obliterate. 


THE  END. 


INDEX 


Achensee   (Tyrol),  260. 

Adamello,  83,  260,  331. 

Adige  (Etsch),  284,  287, 
305,  3",  313,  320,  330. 

Agilulf,  99. 

Alagna,    116-117,    118. 

Albogasio,  125. 

Alle    Sarche,    332. 

Alpe  del  Giardino,  81. 

Alserio,  Lake,  182. 

Altissimo,   330. 

Andes,  285. 

Angera,  30,  41,  85. 

Anguissola,  Count  Gio- 
vanni, 190. 

Annone,  Lake,  182. 

Antonini,  General  Giacomo, 
109. 

Anzasca,  Val,  117. 

Aquaseria,  217. 

Arco,  288,  304,  305,  311,  326- 
328,  330,  331,  332,  333, 
334,  336;  Counts  of,  327. 

Argegno,  124,  192,  193,  195, 
218. 

Armeno,  92. 

Arnold  (Arnaldo)  of  Bres- 
cia, 275,  276-277. 

Arona,  17,  40-44,  46,  57,  58, 
90,  135- 

Ascona,  63. 

Assenza,  321. 

Assina,  Val,  341. 

Ball,  12. 

Baradello   (tower),  150,  154- 

Baranca,  Colle  di,  117,  120. 


Barbarossa,  Emperor,  23, 
39,  154,  222. 

Barbavara,  23,  39. 

Bardolino,   318,   322. 

Baveno,  6,  19,  37,  42,  46,  50- 
51,  80,  81,  85,  88,  91,  96, 
142. 

Bayard,  Chevalier,  275,  277- 
280. 

Belgiojoso,    Cristina,    191. 

Belgirate,    45,   46. 

Bellagio,  135,  170,  182,  192, 
195,  196,  198-206,  215  216, 
228,  229,  341;  Bay  or,  196, 
204,  217,  219. 

Bellano,  178,  227. 

Bellarma,  125. 

Bellinzona,    14,    223. 

Berengar  II.,  100. 

Bergamo,  154,  246-250,  251, 
252,  253,  255,  257,  260,  261, 
264,  268,  273,  286. 

Biandronno,  Lake,  84,  141. 

Bissone,  124. 

Bogliaco,  299. 

Boldoni,  Pietro,  178. 

Boleto,  102. 

Bona,  Val,  330. 

Boniforti,  L.,  30. 

Borromean  Islands,  19,  28- 
39,  46,  84,  86,  88;  I  sola 
Bella,  29,  30,  31-35,  Si,  64, 
86,  135,  292;  Isola  dei 
Pescatori,  29,  35-36,  51, 
86;  Isola  Madre,  29,  36- 
38;  Isola  San  Giovanni, 
23,  29,  38-39,  51. 


355 


Index 


Borromeo,  Counts  of,  4,  29, 

30,  41,  42,  43-44,  64,  112. 
Brabante,  4. 
Brenner   route,   5,   232,   287, 

311- 

Brenta,  331. 
Brescia,   247,   257,   260,   261, 

266,  273-280,  286,  287,  295, 

208. 
Brianza,    135,    180-183,    186, 

204,  230,  334,  340,  341. 
Brieg,  $. 

Brienz,   Lake,  260. 
Brissago,  63. 
Buccione,  102. 
Buco  di  Vela,  332. 
Bulwer-Lytton,  3. 
Bute,  Countess  of,  266,  267, 

268,  269,  295. 


Cadenabbia,    196,    198,    200, 

210,  212,  213,  214-215,  216, 

221,  225. 
Caglio,  341,  342. 
Caimo,  Bernardino,  112. 
Camonica,  Val,  260,  286. 
Campino,   81. 
Campione    (Lake    Lugano), 

128. 
Campione     (Lake     Garda), 

287,  300. 
Campo,  194. 
Cannero,     village     of,     67; 

islands  of,  64,  67,  85,  135. 
Cannobino,  Val,  63. 
Cannobio,  63. 
Canova,  4,  203,  211,  229. 
Canzo,  village  of,   182,  341; 

Corni    di,   229. 
Capolago,   127,   131. 
Carcoforo,  120. 
Carlo   Emanuele   III.,   King 

of  Sardinia  and  Savoy,  24. 
Caroline,    wife     of    George 

IV.  of  England,  188. 


Castagnola,  Punta  della 
(Lake  Maggiore),  17,  23, 
25,  46,  51;  village  of 
(Lake  Lugano),  125. 

Castello  (Lake  Lugano), 
125. 

Castello  (Lake  Garda),  320. 

Castelletto  di  Brenzone,  321. 

Catullus,  5,  285,  291-292. 

Cavargna,  Val,  201. 

Cavpur,  4,  70,  77-79,  96. 

Cecina,  299. 

Centovalli,  Val,  60. 

Charlemagne,  Emperor,  23, 
242. 

Charles  V.,  Emperor,  24. 

Chiavenna,  15,  182,  222-224, 
225,  231;  Piano  di,  224. 

Christians,  Pliny  the 
Younger's  correspond- 
ence with  Trajan  on  the, 
164-169,  171. 

Cima,    125. 

Cima  di  Pelaggia,  203. 

Civenna,    182,   204. 

Claudian,  5,  285,   287. 

Clemente,  Verzino  Edo- 
ardo,  252. 

Colico,   219,  224. 

Colleoni,  Bartolommeo,  249. 

Colma,  Colle  di,  90,  91,  94, 
104-107. 

Comabbio,  Lake,  84,  135, 
141. 

Como,  Lake,  3,  13,  14,  56, 
70,  loo,  123,  124,  131,  133, 
135,  141,  144,  148,  149,  169, 
178,  181,  182,  184-230,  283, 
285,  290,  340. 

Como,  the  city  of,  4,  7,  48, 
53,  66,  73,  1 10,  135,  144, 
145,  146,  147,  148,  I49-IS6, 
157,  177-179,  195,  225,  303. 

Comolli   (sculptor),  203. 

Constance,   Lake,  284. 

Cordona,   Carlo,  22. 

Corneno,  340. 

Cressogno,  125. 


Index 


Dante,  5,  240,  285-287. 

De   Castello,  23,  39. 

De  Ferrari,  ducal  family  of, 

292. 

Defregger,   335. 
Dell'  Olivo   (island),  320. 
De   Mortillet,  12. 
De  Salis  family,  222. 
De  Saussure,   117,   172. 
Desenzano,    282,     287,    288- 

289,  290,  299,  308,  319,  330- 
Desor,  12. 
Dolce,  Carlo,  100. 
Domo  d'Ossola,  6,  63,  89. 
Dongo,  226. 
Donizetti,  246,  251-258;    list 

of  operas,  253-255. 
Drusus,  23. 
Dryden,  285. 


Ebers,  Georg,  126. 
Egna,  Colle  d',  120. 
Engadine,  the,  84,   133,  182, 

222,    237,    334,    348,    351, 

353- 

Erba,  182,  341. 
Esino,  Val  d',  220. 


Fasano,  298. 

Favre,    12. 

Feriolo,   17,  58. 

Ferrari,  Gaudenzio,  4,  100, 
109-111,  114,  153,  183. 

Florence,  Cosmo,  Duke  of, 
297. 

Fiume  Latte,  220. 

Fobello,    117-120. 

Foix,  Gaston  de,  278. 

Francioni,  General,  195. 

Frederick,  Austrian  Arch- 
duke, 327. 


Gallic,  Cardinal,  188. 
Gambarogno,  range  of,  63. 
Gandria,    125. 


Garda,    Lake,   5,    7,   64,   70, 

281-325,  327,  328,  329,  330, 

33i. 
Garda,  Isola  di  (Isola  Lec- 

chi),     292-293;      town    of, 

322,    330. 

Gardone,    297-298. 
Gargnanp,   298,   299. 
Garibaldi,  4,  41,   51,  54,  67, 

70,  71-75,  76,  77,  146,  249, 

263. 

Gastaldi,   12. 
Geneva,  Lake,   124,  284. 
Geno,  Punta  di,  187. 
Genoa,  Duchess  of,  47,  96. 
Gerra,  63. 
Ghiffa,  67. 

Giansevero,  Prof.  Uberti,  65. 
Gignese,  87. 
Goethe,  5,  287,  300,  301,  311- 

318,  320,  322. 
Governo,   286. 
Gozzano,    90,    98. 
Graubiinden,    Swiss    Canton 

of,  222,  334,  343,  348. 
Gravedona,   100,  226. 
Gravellona,  90. 
Gressoney,   118. 
Griante,  216. 
Gritti,  Messer  Andrea,  278. 

Henfrey,  Mr.,  50. 
Hofer,  Andreas,  301. 

Idro,  Lago  d',  330.. 

"II   Bel   Paese"    (by   Stop- 

pani),  239,  244-245. 
"  II     Cinque    Maggio "     (by 

Manzoni),  242. 
II    Moretto    (painter),    274, 

275- 
"  I     Promessi     Sposi "     (by 

Manzoni),    45,    239,     240- 

241,    242. 
Intelvi,  Val  d',  124,  127,  128, 

135,   140,   192. 
Intra,  25,  27,  51-53,  85. 


357 


Index 


Isco,    Lake,    5,    13,    259-264, 

266,  267,  269. 
Iseo  (village),  260,  261. 
Isola    Comacina,    194. 

Julianus,    missionary,   98. 
Julius,    missionary,   4,   98. 

"  Lady  of  Lyons,"  3. 
Landwasser    (torrent),    117. 
Lasize,   322,   330. 
Laveno,  17,  53-55,  58,  67,  85, 

142,  144,   146,   152. 
Lecco,  town  of,  4,  182,  219, 

224,  227,  228,  229-230,  239, 

240,  242,  243,  244,  247. 
Lecco,    Lake,    181,   182,   196, 

216,   227-229. 
Ledro,     Valley,     301,     330; 

Lake,  329;    Pieve  di,  330. 
Lenno,   I7o,   196. 
Leon    d'Oro    Albergo    (Lo- 

vere),  263-264. 
Lesa,   45. 

Leventina,  Valle,  146. 
Levo,  81. 
Ligornetto,   127. 
Limone,  300-301,  310,  315. 
Locarno,     Lake    of,     62-63; 

town  of,   58,  59-62,  283. 
Loggio,    125. 
Lombardy,  12,  39,  52,  59,  80, 

117,  131,  135,  136,  145,  174, 

1 80,  244,  304,  309,  324. 
Longfellow,   214-215. 
Loppio,    Lake,    288;     Pass, 

3"- 
Lovere,    260,     261,    262-264, 

266,  267,  271. 
Lubbock,   Sir   John,    12,   90, 

123. 
Lugano,   Lake,  65,    123-129, 

131,  134,  141,  144,  145,  153, 

192,  217,  260,  283, 
Lugano,   city   of,   7,   66,   77, 

124,  125-127,  134,  145. 
Luini,   Bernardino,  4,  65-67, 

153,   183. 


Luino,  65-66,  72,  85,  124. 
Lund,  T.  W.  M.,  66. 
Luzern,  Lake,   124,  329. 

Maccagno,  64,  85. 
Macugnaga,  117,  118. 
Macugnano,   321. 
Maderno,  297,  208-299. 
Madonna  del  Sassp,  61. 
Madonna  di  Campiglio,  332. 
Magadino,  63. 
Maggia,    Val,    60;     torrent, 

63- 
Maggiore,    Lake,    7,    13,    14, 

17,  24,  28,  30,  39,  42-69,  70, 

80,  81,  84,  90,  91,  123,  124, 

135,  141,  144,  196,225,283, 

290,  292. 
Mailles,     Jacque     de      (the 

Loyal  Serviteur),  277. 
Malcesine,  300,  315,  316,  317, 

3i8,  320. 
Malgrate,  230. 
Maloja   Pass,   222,   334,   340, 

348,  349,  353- 
Manerba,   Rocca  di,  292. 
Mantua,   284,   285,   301,   324; 

Duke    of,    297. 
Manzoni,  4,  45,  49,  239-243, 

245- 

Maraglio,    261. 
Margherita,  Queen,  88,  96. 
Maroggia,  124,  153. 
Marone,    262. 
Mastallone     (torrent),     107, 

109,   117;    Val,  119. 
Mayr,  251,  252,  253,  255. 
Mazzarda,  64. 

Mazzini,  4,  70,  71,  76-77,  127. 
Medici,  Giov.  Giac.  de,  226. 
Meina,  45. 
Meinulf,  99. 
Melide,   124,   134. 
Menaggio,  124,  196,  198,  201, 

210,  215,  216-217,  221. 
Mendrisio,  127. 
Mera  (stream),  223. 
Merelli,  252,  253,  255. 


358 


Index 


Mergozzo,  Lake,  84. 

Miasinp,  92. 

Michelino,  30. 

Milan,  18,  23,  24,  30,  40,  43, 
54,  57,  66,  84,  99,  no,  135. 
145,  152,  155,  177,  182,  183, 
225,  239,  241,  247,  254,  287, 
334,  336,  337,  338,  339,  34O. 

Mincio      (river),     284,     286, 

323,   324- 

Moltke,  126. 

Monate,  Lake,  84,  135,  141. 

Montagu,  Lady  Mary  Wort- 
ley,  4,  263,  264,  265-272, 

295-297- 

Mont  Cenis,  the,  5,  232. 
Monte  Baldo,  309,  310,  320, 

321,  330-33.1- 

Monte  Bisbino,   150,  156. 
Monte  Bre,   125,  126. 
Monte   Brione,   309. 
Monte   Caprino,   126. 
Monte    Crocione,    196,    203, 

210. 
Monte  Generoso,  10,  84,  127, 

128,  130-140. 
Monte    Giumella,    304,    309, 

310,  328. 

Monte  Grigna,  199,  203,  220. 
Monte  Maggiore,  330. 
Monte  Motterone,  10,  17,  47, 

64,  80-88,  90,  91. 
Monte  Rosa,   18,  46,  54,  68, 

83-84,    91,    104,    116,    117, 

119,  120,  132,  133,  140. 
Monte    San    Salvatore,    126, 

128,  134. 
Montisola,  261. 
Montorfano,  51,   86. 
Montorfano,   Lake,    182. 
Moore,  Thomas,  291. 
Mori,  287,  304,  305,  311. 
Musso,    226-227. 

Nago,  7,  288. 

Napoleon  I.,  32,  35,  172,  212, 
216,  242,  252;  Prince 
Jerome,  96;  III.,  323,  324. 


Natta,  Marquis,  92. 
Nemours,  Duke  of,  278. 
Nesso,    191-192. 
Neuchatel,   Lake,   143. 
Nigoglia  (stream),  90. 

Oggebbio,  53,  67. 
Oglio  (stream),  260,  270. 
Oira,  99. 
Oleggio,  42. 
Omegna,  90. 
Onsernone,  Val,  60. 
Or  ford,  Lady,  297. 
Oria,    125. 

Orta,   town   of,   92-103,    147. 
Orta,  Lake,  4,  7,  13,  81,  84, 
85,  89-103,    104,   105,  281. 
Osteno,  124,  125. 
Otto  the   Great,  ipo. 

Pallanza,    17-27,   29,    39,   51, 

53,  85,   144,    196;    Bay   of, 

36,  39,  46;    Gulf  of,  54,  58, 

80. 

Pella,    105. 
Pellegrini,  24. 
Peschiera  (Lake  Iseo),  261; 

(Lake    Gar  da),    284,    286, 

287,  319,  323,  330. 
Philip   IV.,    King  of   Spain, 

24. 

Pietole,  285. 
Pinzolo,  332. 
Plinies,  the  two,  4,  151,  153, 

I57-I7I,  188,  190,  201,  285. 
Po   (river),  57,  284,  286. 
Ponale    waterfall,    301,    306, 

308,  310,  329,  330. 
Ponte  Brolla,  60. 
Ponte  della  Gula,  119. 
Ponte  delle  Due  Acque,  117, 

119. 

Pontegrande,    120. 
Ponte  Tresa,  65,  124. 
Porlezza,    124,    125,  217. 
Porto  Ceresio,  124,  145. 
Porto   Valtravaglia,   67. 
Pregasine,  329. 


359 


Index 


Presanella,  the,  331. 
Provincia  Claudiana,  23. 
Ptolemy,  285. 
Punta  Balbianello,  195. 
Pusiano,  Lake,  182. 
Pusiano    (hamlet),  340. 


Ramsay,  12. 

Reni,   Guido,   100. 

Resegnone,  the,  230. 

Restellini   (physician),  52. 

Rima,    118. 

Rimella,   117,   118. 

Riva     (Lake     Garda),     282, 

283,  284,  287,  299,  302,  303- 

310,  311,  326,  328,  329,  330, 

332. 

Riva,    Lake,   224. 
Rocca  d'Anfo,  330. 
Rodari,  Tommaso,  152;  Gia- 

como,  152. 

Rogers's  "Italy,"  225. 
"  Romance      and      Teutonic 

Switzerland,"  60,   125. 
Romanico,  81. 
Romanino  (painter),  275. 
Roon,  126. 
Rosmini-Serbati,      Antonio, 

49-50,  243. 
Rovereto     (Tyrol),    49,    50, 

3",  313. 
Rovio,   134. 
Rubini,  246. 
Rufus,   Verginius,   164;    Ca- 

ninius,    188. 
Rusca   (family),   154. 
Ruskin,  5,  6,  37,  42,  66,  96, 

142,  204-206,  225-226,  331. 

Sala,  194. 

Sale  Marasino,  261. 

Salo,    287,    293-297,    330. 

San  Fermo  (battle),   155. 

San  Giulio,  island  of,  84,  97- 

101,   105;  hotel,  95-96. 
San   Mamette,   125. 


San     Martino     (Solferino), 

battle   of,  73,  319,   323-325, 

330;   Monte  (Lake  Como), 

215,   216. 
Santa    Caterina    del    Sasso, 

54,  85. 
San    Vigilio,    headland    of, 

321. 
Sarca  (river),  284,  308,  320, 

326,  329,  331,  332. 
Saronno,  66,   no,   152,   182. 
Sarzio,  242. 
Sassina,  Val,  227,  242. 
Sasso  del  Ferro,  10,  17,  46, 

S3,   54,   80,   84. 
Sasso  Feratp  (painter),  100. 
Sasso   Rancio,  218. 
Savognin,  343,  344,  345. 
Saxe-Meiningen,  ducal  fam- 
ily of,  212. 

Scaligeri,  the,  290,  304. 
Schafberg,  Upper,  353. 
Segantini,  Giovanni 

(painter),    182,    333-354- 
Segrino,    Lake,    182. 
Sermione,  headland  of,  285, 

290-292,  319. 
Sesia    (river),   84;     Val,   90, 

104,  105,  107,  115,  116. 
Sesto   Calende,  41. 
Sfondrato,      Duke      Ercole, 

201;    family  of,  219. 
Sforza,  family  of,  23,  24,  57, 

ISO,  154- 
Sils,  Lake,  348. 
Simonetta,  Colonel,  52. 
Simplon,    the,    5-6,    89,    95, 

232;    mountains,  68. 
Siviano,   261. 
Soglio,   349- 
Solda,  Val,   125. 
Someraro,   81. 
Sommariva,   Count,  212. 
Sondrio,   224. 
Stanga,   Marquis,  201. 
Stella    (painter),    113. 
St.  Gothard,  the,  5,  95,  124, 

126,   133,   149,  232. 


360 


Index 


Stoppani,   4,    239,    240,    243- 

245- 

Strabo,  285. 
Stresa,  19,  46,  47-49,  5*,  64, 

70,  80,  81,  88,  91,  96,  135. 
Strona  (stream),  90. 
Studer,  12. 
Symonds,   John    Addington, 

5,  66,  123,  142,  153,  260. 

Tabacchetti     (De     Wespin, 

painter),  113-114. 
Tacitus,  Cornelius,  158,  163, 

164. 

Tadini,  Count,  263. 
Tasso,      Torquato      (statue 

of),  249. 
Tavernola,   261. 
Tellina,  Val,  224. 
Theodoric  the  Great,  327. 
"  The  Rise  of  the  Swiss  Re- 
public,"  146,  227. 
Thorwaldsen,    4,    203,    211- 

212,  229. 
Tiberius,  23. 
Ticino    (river),    41,    57,    73, 

84,    87;     Val,    133;     Swiss 

Canton,  57,  58,   146. 
Tinazzo,  Orrido  di,  264. 
Tione,  332. 
Tirano,  224. 
Toblino,  Lake,  332. 
Toce  (river),  87,  90. 
Torbole,   288,   308,   311,   312, 

313,  3U,  315,  320,  329. 
Torno,  189-190. 
Torri  del  Benaco,  321. 
Torrigia,  headland  of,  191. 
Toscolano,    299. 
Tozier,  Rev.  H.  F.,  286. 
Trajan,    Emperor,    153,    164, 

168. 

Tremelone    (island),  320. 
Tremezzina,    182,    192,    196, 

202. 
Tremezzo,  170,  193,  196,  198, 

207-210,    213,    218. 
Tremosine,    300. 


Trent,    286,    304,    305,    332, 

337- 

Trentino,    305. 
Thun,    Lake,    330. 
Turner   (painter),  42,  226. 
Tyndall,   12. 
Tyrol,  83,  234,  237,  260,  286, 

288,  302,  331,  337,  351. 

Urban,    Austrian    field-mar- 
shal, 146. 
Ustecchio,    301. 

Varallo,     90,     107-116,     118, 

H9,  147- 
Varenna,   135,    196,   198,  215, 

219-221. 
Varese,    Lake,    84,    141-143, 

145- 
Varese,    city   of,   53,   73,   84, 

85,  124,  135,   I44-H7,  152. 
Varesotto,   143-144,   145. 
Varone,  330. 
Vedova   (sculptor),   no. 
Vela,    Vincenzo    (sculptor), 

127,  256. 
Verdi,  243,  251. 
Verona,   286,    287,   291,   305, 

3H,  313,  3i6,  318,  322,  324, 

331- 

Verzasca,  Val,  60. 
Vesuvius,   eruption    of,    153, 

158-163. 

Vezio,  cliff  of,  219. 
Viani,  Agostino,  22. 
Victor  Emmanuel  II.,  52, 

108,  146,  323,  324;    III.,  6. 
Victoria,  Queen,  50,  96. 
Villas:     Adda,     27;     Arco- 

mati-Visconti,      195,     206; 

Browne  -  Casanova,      27; 

Caleotto,  _    242;      Carlotta 

(Sommariva),      206,     210- 

213;  Clara,  50;  Crespi,  92; 

d'Este,    188;    dell'    Olmo, 

188;    Franzosini,  26;    Giu- 

lia,    199;    Melzi,    199,   203; 

Pliniana,     190,     225;     Ser- 


36' 


Index 


belloni,  199,  201-203,  205- 
206;  Trivulzio  (Poldi), 
199;  Trotti,  109. 

Virgil,  5,  285,  287,  314,  315- 

Visconti,  family  of  the,  23, 
57,  64,  150,  154,  222;  -Mo- 
drone,  Duke,  188;  Gian 
Galeazzo,  201. 

Vitani    (family),    154. 

Volta,  4,  151,  I7I-I73,  179- 


Wenceslaus,  Emperor,  30. 

Wharton,  Miss  Edith,  29-30. 

Windermere,  Lake,  143. 

Winds:  tramontane,  48,  56; 
inverna,  56;  tivano  or 
sover,  56;  breva  or  ora, 
56;  maggiore  and  tner- 
gozzo,  56;  ora  or  aria, 
308-309,  329;  vento,  308. 

Zancla,  253. 


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